Friday, July 19
2 Samuel 4: These two military leaders in the north, observing David’s positive response to Abner’s arrival, apparently sense that it’s all over for the house of Saul. Aware—with everybody else, it would seem—that David’s future rule over all Israel is inevitable, they determine to make their move against Ishbosheth and, thus, to secure the good favor of David. Ishbosheth is murdered in his sleep.
They are thoroughly surprised at David’s response. David is disgusted with all the blood recently poured out by actions of Israelite-on-Israelite. First came the deaths of Saul, Jonathan, and two other of Saul’s sons. Then, Asahel picked a fight with Abner and was killed, in spite of Abner’s sincere wish against it. In the chapter immediately preceding this one, Joab treacherously took the life of Abner. Now, here come these two nobodies from the north, proud of themselves for murdering Ishbosheth in his sleep. It is too much for David. The author of the Psalms finds it all revolting.
On two occasions, as we have seen, David refrained from taking the life of Saul, and, on the second of these occasions, Saul himself was asleep (1 Samuel 24 & 6). In the mind of honorable David, the murder of a sleeping man is dishonorable beyond contemplation. In the present chapter, then, we are not surprised at his reaction to the murder of Ishbosheth (verses 9-12). Such an atrocity is repugnant to the classical chivalric spirit of the warrior David.
David’s reaction here is of a piece with his response to the murder of Abner in the previous chapter. David, throughout the difficult days during which he was a fugitive in the Judean desert, had placed his trust in the justice of God and had refrained from taking matters into his own hands. The present act of treachery, the murder of Ishbosheth, was exactly what could be expected, David believed, if men placed political and military expediency above moral principle.
Prior to telling this story of the death of Ishbosheth, however, the author pauses to insert a single verse on Mephibosheth, the son of Jonathan. This quiet insertion, without comment, prepares for the lengthier treatment of this important character in chapter 9. With the death of Ishbosheth, this poor cripple becomes the last heir of Saul’s house. This insertion, then, introduces a point of great historical irony.
Saturday, July 20
2 Samuel 5: This chapter narrates several events illustrating what David does to consolidate his political and military power. These events are narrated so close together that they appear to happen all at once. Given the Philistine threat from the southwest, this impression may be correct. Things must be done quickly because of that military threat.
Verses 1-5: This is a very important account of a political transition. Abner’s adherence to David, followed quickly by the death of Ishbosheth, prepares the way for David’s assumption of authority over all of Israel. Their king and chief military figures all gone, the elders of the northern tribes sue for peace, in order to put the entire realm and region under David’s authority.
They explicitly recognize that David is the Lord’s chosen and anointed one; recent events have proved it. Even though they anoint David as their king, the Israelites call to mind his earlier anointing by Samuel, who acted as the Lord’s emissary in the act.
This unity of God’s People under an “anointed prince” is a major theme of the Bible’s prophetic literature, much of it composed during the loss of the monarchy in the context of the Babylonian Captivity (cf. Isaiah 43:5; Jeremiah 23:3; 29:14; Ezekiel 11:17; 28:25).
The Christian reader understands this unity of God’s People, and especially David’s role in its regard, as expressions of Christological prophecy. Christ is the true Anointed One who brings into one all the scattered children of God.
Verses 6-10: This section tells of the capture of Jerusalem. Now that David has become the king of all the Israelites, it seemed to him that the city of Hebron, notwithstanding its important historical significance—all the way back to Abraham—was located too far south to be the capital of the whole nation. Although Hebron had adequately served as the capital of Judah, David wanted another city, more centrally located, to serve as the capital of all the tribes.
In addition to this geographical consideration, the king’s choice of Jerusalem addressed several concerns:
First, inasmuch as this city did not belong to any of the twelve tribes, none of them would enjoy undue influence in the capital. This transfer of the royal court to Jerusalem effectively removed the city from the control of any local tribal leadership. This effect strengthened the role of the king.
Second, the topography of Jerusalem conferred a “relative impregnability” on the city, making it an ideal political capital. Even though the Israelites, under Joshua, had conquered the Promised Land centuries earlier, Jerusalem had remained in Jebusite hands until it fell to the forces of David. This fact augured well for Jerusalem’s future tactical value. Indeed, the city was notoriously difficult to conquer. Even the legions of Rome, we recall, were held outside the walls for two years.
Third, Jerusalem was also significant in the memory of the Chosen People. Its founder, according to Josephus, was Melchizedek, described in Genesis as a king and priest. He it was that had blessed Abraham centuries before. By capturing Jerusalem and making it his capital, David could be regarded as a successor to the royal line of Melchizedek, the king so closely associated with the patriarch Abraham, the ancient father of the nation.
Sunday, July 21
2 Samuel 6: David is full of plans that involve the consolidation of his reign. His resolve to bring the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem seems rather sudden, but perhaps one is justified in thinking this plan had been in the king’s mind for some time.
We are not told, however, that this plan was inspired by divine guidance, and it is certain that divine guidance was not consulted in the actual transfer. Nothing in the Sacred Text indicates that David reflected adequately on the moral ambiguity involved in this endeavor—this attempt to make something extremely sacred serve a partly political purpose—and disaster strikes rather early in the account.
Perhaps recalling the thirty thousand Israelites who perished when the Ark was earlier captured by the Philistines (1 Samuel 4:10), David chooses the same number of warriors to accompany him when he goes to fetch the Ark from Kiriath Jearim. They begin what was to be a very impressive liturgical procession to Jerusalem. Because the rubrics for the transfer of the Ark were not observed, however, the procession ended in disaster.
As the second scene (verses 10-19) opens, David learns that the presence of the Ark has brought notable blessings on the house of Obed-Edom, where it had been kept for three months. The king decides it may be time to make a second attempt at its transferal to the new capital. During that interval those responsible for the transfer have apparently taken care to consult the proper rubrics governing such a rite. The procession to Jerusalem is also interrupted, perhaps several times, for the offering of sacrifice, which was the outward sign of a new-found humility on David’s part.
The “ephod” worn by David appears to be a priestly vestment (Cf. Exodus 28:15, 35; 29:5; Leviticus 8:6-7; 1 Samuel 22:18). The author provides no explanation why the king is dressed as a priest, nor does he say what the king himself thought about this. It is worth mentioning, nonetheless, that David’s assumption of the throne at Jerusalem places him in a royal succession that is traced back hundreds of years to the priest/king Melchizedek (Cf. Genesis 14:18; Psalms 110 (109):2-4). In assuming a priestly garment for the transferal of the Ark, King David enacts a foreshadowing of the Messiah, pictured in early Christian literature as both king and priest.
The strong foreshadowing in this scene, however, is not the man who dances before the Ark; it is the Ark itself, which bears the Divine Presence. When the Mother of God enters the home of her cousin, Elizabeth, she bears the Divine Presence in a far more comprehensive and final way than did the Ark of old. The Virgin Mary carries within her flesh the One in whom “bodily dwells all the fullness of the divinity” (Colossians 2:9). The one who immediately recognizes this Divine Presence is the child Elizabeth carries. His tiny ears hear the greeting of Mary at the same time as his mother, and she herself testifies to response of the infant yet unborn: “For indeed, as soon as the voice of your greeting sounded in my ears, the baby leaped (eskritesen . . . to brephos) in my womb for joy” (Luke 1:44).
This scene near the beginning of Luke’s Gospel rather exactly corresponds to the picture presented in 2 Samuel 6: the pre-born John the Baptist, assuming the role of Israel’s dancing king, begins to leap with happiness. The “gladness” (verse 12) of David and of David’s city in this meeting with God foreshadows the exhilaration of Elizabeth’s baby on this, his first meeting with Christ.
Monday, July 22
Saint Mary Magdalene: In Paul’s list of official witnesses to Resurrection, there is not a single word about the Lord’s appearances to the women. On the contrary, he says that the risen Jesus “was seen by Cephas” (1 Corinthians 15:5).
Now when we turn to the Gospels themselves, quite a different emphasis shows itself. Indeed, here we read: “Now when He rose early on the first day of the week, He appeared first to Mary Magdalene” (Mark 16:9). In the official list in 1 Corinthians 15, she is not even mentioned. The contrast is striking.
In the second sort of story we are no longer concerned so much with the Church’s witness to the world; we are, rather, dealing with the Church’s inner memory, her devout and tender meditation on that first Easter morning and the ensuing days. In these accounts, the first apparitions are made to the women (Matthew 28:9; Luke 20:11–18). Indeed, the women are not even believed by the Apostles when they announce the empty tomb and the vision of angels (Mark 16:11; Luke 24:1–11).
In this second type of story, then, we are dealing less with official testimony than with a kind of prayerful meditation. Thus, the Lord is not necessarily recognized right away. The two disciples on the way to Emmaus and the seven disciples out at the Sea of Galilee do not know Him until some crucial point in the account. And the context of the recognition has something very spiritual about it: the disciples on the road recognize Him in the act of the breaking of the bread, and the seven on the lake once again share a meal of bread and fish. In these stories we are not dealing with the Church’s testimony to the world, but with the Church’s inner life of communion with the risen Lord.
Such a story is that of Mary Magdalene in today’s reading. Like the bride in the Song of Solomon (3:1–4), she rises early while it is still dark and goes out seeking Him whom her soul loves, the one whom she calls “my Lord.” In an image reminiscent of both Genesis and the Song of Solomon, she comes to the garden of His burial (19:41). Indeed, she first takes Him to be the gardener, which, as the new Adam, He most certainly is. Her eyes blinded by tears, she does not at once know Him.
He speaks to her, but even then she does not recognize His voice. The dramatic moment of recognition arrives when the risen Jesus pronounces her own name: “Mary.” Only then does she know Him as “Rabbouni,” “my Teacher.”
In this story, then, Christians perceive in Mary Magdalene an image of themselves meeting their risen Lord and Good Shepherd: “the sheep hear his voice; and he calls his own sheep by name . . . , for they know his voice” (John 10:3–4). This narrative of Mary Magdalene is an affirmation that Christian identity comes of recognizing the voice of Christ, who speaks our own name in the mystery of salvation: “the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me” (Galatians 2:20). This is truly an “in-house” memory of the Church; it can
only be understood within the community of salvation, for it describes a wisdom not otherwise available to this world.
Tuesday, July 23
2 Samuel 8: This chapter, which is chiefly a summary of David’s military exploits as king, includes material earlier than the things narrated in chapter 7.
As one reads the present chapter, some attention to a map demonstrates the practical outcome of David’s victories; namely, he has created a small empire, of which Jerusalem is the geo-political center. (David was able to do this, because of the relative weakness of the two powers on the ends of the Fertile Crescent, Egypt and Babylon/Assyria.)
To the west and southwest of Israel, the conquest of the Philistines is complete; from now on, they will cease to bother Israel. Indeed, David hires their best warriors—the Cerethites (Cretans) and Pelethites—for his own bodyguards (verse 18). (This is the reversal of the earlier situation, when David and his men served as the bodyguards of a Philistine king.)
To the south, David defeats the Amalekites and the Edomites, incorporating both groups into a satellite status within his small empire. To guarantee that they faithfully pay their annual tribute, and to discourage any impulse they may feel toward rebellion, David places garrisons of armed Israelites throughout their territories.
The conquest of the Edomites is particularly significant, inasmuch as Israel acquires a southern port on the Gulf of Aqaba. Later, Solomon will exploit the advantage of that acquisition, which provides maritime access to Arabia, the west coast of Africa, and other places as far away as India.
To Israel’s east, on the other side of the Jordan, David subdues the Ammonites and Moabites, whose annual tribute will finance David’s government, building projects, and other ventures.
To the northeast, David’s forces continue their conquest, adding Syria and Zobah to his little empire.
Directly to the north lies the maritime power of Phoenicia, which is happy to be on David’s good side. During their whole history the Phoenicians are never a threat to Israel; they look only for commercial partners, not enemies to subdue. It is arguable that no other political alliance of David is as significant as his treaty with Phoenicia.
Moreover, the rise of David has been extremely beneficial to Phoenicia, because David subdued the Philistines. Among the activities of the Philistines was piracy in the eastern Mediterranean (In Egyptian literature, they are known as “the sea peoples’), a piracy that severely hampered Phoenician trade routes. David’s defeat on the Philistines put an end to that piracy, much to the benefit of Phoenician mercantile ventures.
Wednesday, July 24
2 Samuel 9: When Mephibosheth arrives at the royal court, it is with great fear. David reassures him, “Do not fear, for I will surely show you chesed for Jonathan your father’s sake, and will restore to you all the land of Saul your grandfather; and you shall eat bread at my table continually.”
The story of Mephibosheth illustrates the kindness of David, but it also indicates his political skill. Mephibosheth, as the son of Jonathan, is the direct heir of Saul. Consequently, around him could gather rebellious elements in the kingdom that might like a return to the old regime. In addition to a desire to take care of the son of Jonathan, David also has in mind to keep that son close to him; Mephibosheth is not consulted on the point. He is simply informed that, for now on, he will be living at court. Ziba, formerly a servant of Saul, will care for his hereditary property.
As for Mephibosheth himself, he was already introduced in 4:4, where we learn that his physical affliction was the result of a fall he suffered as a small child. In the present chapter, he is clearly much older and has a son of his own. Until now, he has been living secretly and in exile, east of the Jordan. Summoned to appear at David’s court, he is probably afraid for his life, knowing that the king may regard him—a descendent of Saul—as a potential rival. David sees in this cripple, however, a son of Jonathan more than a grandson of Saul.
Mephibosheth’s residence at the court is without incident until the political complications arising from Absalom’s rebellion. Counseled by Ziba at that time, Mephibosheth remains behind when David and most of the court must flee the city. Ziba, who is arguably the most duplicitous character in the Bible, represents Mephibosheth’s action as connivance in the rebellion. David, deceived by Ziba, summons the young man to account, when he returns from exile. Mephibosheth convincingly pleads his innocence and is spared, but David, who was recently helped by Ziba during his brief exile, is reluctant to punish the slanderer.
Mephibosheth, true son of Jonathan, is no fool. He proves himself as loyal to David as his father did earlier. David, in his treatment of Mephibosheth, adheres strictly to the terms of his covenant of friendship with Jonathan (1 Samuel 20:12-17; 2 Samuel 21:7).
The picture of this poor cripple, lame in both feet, hobbling to the throne of David, stands in contrast to the earlier picture of the king dancing before the Ark of the Lord.
Thursday, July 25
Mark 11:12-19: We should begin our consideration of this story by recalling that the coming Messiah was expected to purge the Temple. Earlier suggestions of this idea include Isaiah 56:7, which is quoted by the Gospels as a prophecy fulfilled on this occasion: “Even them I will bring to My holy mountain, / And make them joyful in My house of prayer. /Their burnt offerings and their sacrifices / Will be accepted on My altar; /For My house shall be called a house of prayer for all nations.” In this text the Temple is “purged” in the sense of being rebuilt after its destruction by the defiling Babylonians. Our Lord also indicates His fulfillment of prophecy on this occasion by justifying His action with a reference to Jeremiah 7:11: “‘Has this house, which is called by My name, become a den of thieves in your eyes? Behold, I, even I, have seen it,’ says the Lord.”
Perhaps even more to the purpose, however, were the words of Malachi, referring to the Messiah’s coming to the Temple in order to purge it: “‘Behold, I send My messenger, /And he will prepare the way before Me. /And the Lord, whom you seek, /Will suddenly come to His temple, /Even the Messenger of the covenant, /In whom you delight. /Behold, He is coming,’ /Says the Lord of hosts. /‘But who can endure the day of His coming? /And who can stand when He appears? /For He is like a refiner’s fire /And like launderers’ soap. /He will sit as a refiner and a purifier of silver; /He will purify the sons of Levi, /And purge them as gold and silver, /That they may offer to the Lord /An offering in righteousness. /Then the offering of Judah and Jerusalem /Will be pleasant to the Lord, /As in the days of old, /As in former years” (Malachi 3:1-4). The context of this purging foreseen by Malachi was the sad state of Israel’s worship, to which he was witness (1:6-10,12-14).
The Temple’s expected “purging” by the Messiah had mainly to do with ritual and moral defilements, much as Judas Maccabaeus had cleansed from the Lord’s house after its defilement by Antiochus Epiphanes IV. This purging was completed with the Temple’s rededication on December 14, 164 B. C. (1 Maccabees 4:52).
As described in the New Testament, however, the “defilement” does not appear to have been so severe. It apparently consisted of the noise and distractions occasioned by the buying and selling of sacrificial animals necessary for the Temple’s ritual sacrifice. John describes the scene in greater detail: “And He found in the temple those who sold oxen and sheep and doves, and the money changers doing business. When He had made a whip of cords, He drove them all out of the temple, with the sheep and the oxen, and poured out the changers’ money and overturned the tables” (John 2:14-15).
To grasp this context we should bear in mind that the greater part of the people in the Temple during the major feasts (and all the Evangelists place this incident near Passover) came from great distances. Naturally they brought no sacrificial animals with them, reasonable expecting that local vendors on the scene would meet their needs. These vendors brought the necessary herds and kept them in the immediate vicinity of the Temple. Indeed, without their mercantile provision, the ritual sacrifices of the Temple would have been rendered impossible, and the activity associated with this arrangement was considered part of the normal business of the Temple, rather much as the sale of Bibles, prayer books, icons, and rosaries in the shops near St. Peter’s in Rome. The action of Jesus, then, was not directed against ritual and moral pollutions but against the normal business of the Temple.
Hence, what the Lord did in this respect was more symbolic than practical. There is no evidence that this action of Jesus amounted to more than a slight disturbance to the daily activity of the Temple, nor does Jesus seem to have persisted in it. He intended, rather, to enact a prophecy, much in line with sundry similar actions by the Old Testament prophets. Those who were witnesses to the event discerned this significance, recognizing it as a “Messianic sign.” This recognition explains the menacing reaction of the Lord’s enemies (Mark 11:18; Luke 19:47).
Friday, July 26
2 Samuel 11: This story easily divides into three parts: (1) the adultery, (2) the attempted cover-up, and (3) the murder.
First, the adultery: David, rising from a midday siesta, strolls about on the roof of his palace. From this vantage point he sees, nearby, a woman engaged in the ritual bath prescribed after the time of menstruation. David learns that she is Bathsheba, the wife of one of his own commanders, Uriah, a man of Hittite descent. Knowing that her husband is away at war, David invites Bathsheba for a quiet evening with him at the palace.
Did the woman intentionally display herself for David? Did Bathsheba have adultery in mind all along? The author does not say so; perhaps he did not know. This is one of several interesting but unanswered questions prompted by the account. Anyway, David makes inquires and sends for the woman, who seems to need no further encouragement.
As it happens, Bathsheba is soon aware of being pregnant from her evening with David. “I am pregnant” are her only recorded words in this chapter. What began as an evening of fun has now developed into a bit of crisis. Wars don’t last forever, and Uriah will be back home soon enough. Bathsheba knows that only David can do something about it.
Second, the attempted cover-up: One suspects that few kings in antiquity (or even later) would have felt compelled to disguise a misdeed like David’s, but in Israel adultery was a very serious crime, even a capital offense (cf. Leviticus 20:10; Deuteronomy 22:22; John 8:5). King David felt a measure of concern that prompted him to attempt concealment of his crime. The king summons Uriah back from the siege of Rabbath, ostensibly to give him a report on the progress of the war. After the interview, David recommends that Uriah return to his home and his wife for the night, before returning to the front. In this way, the king thinks, Bathsheba’s pregnancy can be safely accounted for. He even arranges for a special meal to be sent to the latter’s home.
In his account of Uriah, the author surely intends to contrast him with David. Obviously more honorable than the king, this Hittite may have a better sense of the Israelite tradition of celibacy on the part of warriors, or perhaps he simply discerns an impropriety in David’s suggestion. A professional soldier and leader of men, Uriah does not dream of spending the night in the arms of his wife while his own men are sleeping uncomfortably on the field of battle. (This personal trait puts Uriah in the same category of certain military leaders in American history, such as Anthony Wayne and Robert E. Lee.)
After the interview with David, Uriah lies down and falls asleep at the entrance of the palace. After this happens a second night, David realizes that his cunning has failed. A more drastic plan is called for.
Once again, the reader may feel prompted to inquire: Is Uriah being too cunning by half? Has he heard a rumor in court regarding his wife’s affair with the king? Is he shrewdly refusing to “play along” with the cover-up? We don’t know, and perhaps the author himself did not know.
Third, the murder: David cruelly sends Joab a special instruction by the unwitting hand of Uriah, a message containing the messenger’s own death warrant.
In what ensues we discover something of the dynamism of sin. In initiating the death of Uriah, David resembles Cain, the original murderer. Joab, in executing David’s order, goes beyond it. Joab knows it will not do simply for Uriah to die. Many more men must die, so that the death of Uriah will not look suspicious.
In one his famous detective stories, G. K. Chesterton makes Father Brown inquire of Flambeau, “Where does a wise man hide a leaf?” The obvious answer is, of course, “in a forest.” But suppose there is no forest in which to hide the leaf? In that case, says Father Brown, “He grows a forest to hide it in.” This story, called “The Sign of the Broken Sword,” is contained in the volume, The Innocence of Father Brown. clerical detective explains how a venerated military leader, in order to conceal one soldier whom he had murdered, planned and executed a whole battle, in order to create a great number of corpses.
He may have learned this lesson from Joab, who made sure to arrange his battle plan so that many Israelite soldiers would perish, Uriah among them.
There is probably so such thing as a single sin; one sin leads so quickly to a second, and this one a surprise to the sinner. In David’s case, adultery led to murder. And whereas David had in mind to kill only one man, Joab felt obliged to conceal that one murder by means of many other murders. Murders tend to multiply.