Justice Happens
Uriah answered his country's call. The king had decreed that every able male should make himself available to go against the Ammonites.
Uriah regretted having to go. He was young, just starting in life. The war would be dangerous. Many would not be coming back. But all that was really inconsequential. King David was the Lord's anointed—appointed personally by the Lord's prophet to lead the Lord's people. Whatsoever he decreed was right. That was Uriah's faith.
What Uriah really regretted about going off to war was leaving his new wife. How would she get along without him? How could she cope? How could he care for her if he was away at war? They had so little. Uriah was a poor man, of no consequence in Israel. The best thing he had was his beautiful, new wife who brought him such joy and hope. It was a comfort to lie with her at night.
And now he had to leave her.
Saying goodbye was hard. But duty called. Uriah was first and foremost a dutiful Israelite despite his Hittite background. He did his best to live by the light that he had, and serving his king and his people was his duty, no matter the personal inconveniences.
So Uriah went off to war.
Bathsheba was worried. She wasn't yet used to the fact that she was married. Marriage had required many adjustments. Her father had declared that Uriah was a good man and that she'd be happy with him.
Did she love him?
No. Love was supposed to come later. How could she love a man she didn't know? Love would come after they'd had children and had learned after many years together to depend upon each other.
Bathsheba didn't yet depend on Uriah. Uriah was gone again from her life, just as fast as he'd entered it. She was no longer in her father's house. She had to depend upon her own resources.
Uriah had left her nothing but a place to live. She was a poor girl with no prospects of being anything else.
It didn't help that she lived in the shadow of the king's palace. The contrast only made her own position more bleak. She had nothing, while the king's wives lived just next door with every luxury. Why couldn't her lot have been to be one of them instead of being Uriah's wife?
Bathsheba had one asset—an asset of which she was proud. She was beautiful, and she knew it. Might not that asset be turned to her advantage even now?
Bathsheba noticed that each day the king came out and stood on his upper porch to look out over the city. The porch also overlooked Bathsheba's flat roof. What if she just happened to be bathing there when he came out to gaze? It would be natural. The king was a man, and her innocent act might lead to something much better than her poor prospects with a poor husband.
So she timed the event. She bathed carefully on her private roof, but knew that eyes above would be appreciatively watching. Having completed her bath, she had to know if he was looking, and stole one glance upward. Her eyes met the king's. She smiled, and withdrew.
David was stunned. The girl had smiled at him! She'd known he was there all along. The bath had been a contrived act to catch his interest. She sought his attention, and would approve any that he might give.
Who was the girl? He had to know. He sent his servant to inquire.
Word came back: "Her name is Bathsheba, Uriah's wife."
"His wife! And who is Uriah?"
"He is one of thy servants, in the army of Joab, off fighting the Ammonites."
"Send for the woman, for I must speak with her."
And talk they did. David lusted, and the woman was glad.
Who would know?
Many a man has fallen from grace,
Because of some woman's pretty face;
While other men have achieved high heav'n,
By living every commandment giv'n.
The woman conceived, and sent David word.
Pregnancy was an unfortunate complication for his act of sin. No one must know that the king had been with another man's wife. Noble David did what lesser souls do. He determined to cover his sin by committing another. He sent for Uriah.
Uriah felt honored to be selected to be the king's own messenger. If Joab and the king had both noticed him, his fortunes in the world were indeed rising.
Uriah carried a message from Joab to the king, and was admitted into his august presence. The king was kind, received the message with gratitude, and sent the messenger home for a night of well-deserved rest. A night now with his wife would not raise Uriah's suspicions later when he returned from a long war and found his wife with child.
Such was David's reasoning. But he reckoned not with Uriah's integrity. Uriah would not go home. While the rest of the king's men were still in danger's way, and sleeping on the hard ground, could Uriah's conscience allow him to be comfortable and sleep with his wife when the rest of the Lord's army had no such comforts?
Not even the king's permission and urging would permit Uriah to do such a thing.
And thus did Uriah seal his fate, for under no circumstance could the king allow his adultery to be known. Perhaps if David could have known that his would be the most famous act of adultery in history, he would have refrained from compounding his sin by committing murder. But he still had hopes of avoiding the consequences of his acts. It is Satan's age-old lie that sins can be covered.
Dark sins stay hidden for a time,
But soon or late a light will shine,
And illumine each man's foulest deed,
To cause repentance, his greatest need.
In an utmost act of perfidy David sent a sealed message to Joab, by Uriah's own hand, instructing Joab to put faithful Uriah in the heat of the battle and then to withdraw from him that he might be killed.
And it was done.
And David took Uriah's widow and made her his wife. He added her to his collection of wives and concubines too numerous for him to name. His problem had been laid to rest. The beautiful Bathsheba was now legally his, and no one was the wiser as to the circumstance that had made it so.
No one but the Lord. And the Lord has prophets to whom He speaks.
Thus came Nathan to complain to the king of a problem in Israel.
"There were two men in one city: the one rich, and the other poor," Nathan told the king.
"The rich man had exceeding many flocks and herds:
"But the poor man had nothing, save one little ewe lamb, which he had bought and nourished up: and it grew up together with him, and with his children; it did eat of his own meat, and drank of his own cup, and lay in his bosom, and was unto him as a daughter.
"And there came a traveler unto the rich man, and he spared to take of his own flock and of his own herd, to dress for the wayfaring man that was come unto him; but took the poor man's lamb, and dressed it for the man that was come to him."
David's anger was greatly kindled against the man; and he said to Nathan, "As the Lord liveth, the man that hath done this thing shall surely die."
And Nathan said to David, "Thou art the man!"
David was shocked. David was humbled. David was forced to admit his guilt. David was repentant, but the deeds were done. No amount of repentance could recall Uriah's innocent blood.
Where was the justice? Uriah's life was short, with only weeks spent in marriage. David's life wasn't required of him as he would have required of any other man. David lived 70 years, reigned for 40, and lived in luxury with his wives.
But mortality is short. Eternity lasts forever. Retribution happens, if not during the moment of mortality, then in the everlastingness of the hereafter.
Three thousand years after Uriah's murder, the Lord chose to reveal David's fate in these words:
"David's wives and concubines were given unto him of me, by the hand of Nathan, my servant, and others of the prophets who had the keys of this power; and in none of these things did he sin against me save in the case of Uriah and his wife; and, therefore he hath fallen from his exaltation, and received his portion; and he shall not inherit them out of the world, for I gave them unto another, saith the Lord."
Justice happens, soon or late,
Leave to the Lord to choose the date;
Since some men are true, and not pariahs,
Therefore, David's wives are now Uriah's.