David: A Man After God's Heart (4) Series

David: A Man after God’s Heart (4)

Scott Bayles, pastor

Blooming Grove Christian Church: 3/13/2016

The Bible is full of heroes. These biblical heroes don’t wear colorful capes or costumes, but they instill us with hope, optimism, and faith. They were men and women who overthrew kingdoms, stood for justice, protected God’s messengers, and faced down ferocious lions, unquenchable fires, and belligerent giants. And of all these heroes, none were more heroic than David. In the curtain call of God’s mighty warriors, David takes center stage.

David slayed giants and conquered kingdoms. The Son of God is called the Son of David. The greatest psalms—many of which we still sing today—flow from his pen. We call him king, warrior, minstrel, and giant-killer. The Bible dedicates more pen and parchment to David’s exploits than anyone other than Jesus himself. But still the most astounding words ever spoken about David come from the lips of God. God himself declares: “David (son of Jesse) is a man after my own heart” (Acts 13:22 TLB).

Wouldn’t you like for God to say the same about you? For the last few weeks, we’ve been examining the heart of David in order to see what it takes to be a man or woman after God’s heart.

When last we left David, he was on the run—hiding from King Saul in the caves of Engedi. But when given the opportunity to take Saul by surprise David refused to exact revenge, demonstrating a God-focused, faithful, forgiving heart.

In time, King Saul dies by his own hand.

David is crowned king and rises to new heights. In the first few years of his reign, David distinguishes himself as a warrior, musician, statesman, and king. Israel is expanding. The country is prospering. His cabinet is strong, and his boundaries stretch for sixty thousand square miles. No defeats on the battlefield. No blemishes on his administration. Loved by the people. Served by the soldiers. Followed by the crowds. After two decades on the throne, the wave of David’s success crests at age fifty.

David stands on the highest point of his life, in the highest position in the kingdom, at the highest place in the city—on the palace balcony overlooking Jerusalem. And yet, it’s from that very balcony that David experiences his greatest fall.

The story is told 2 Samuel 11.

It’s springtime in Israel. The nights are warm and the air is sweet. Springtime is when kings normally went out to war. It was the king’s duty to lead his army in defense of his kingdom. But this year David didn’t feel like fighting. He sent the armies of Israel to fight the Ammonites, “However, David stayed behind in Jerusalem” (2 Samuel 11:1 NLT). I don’t know why David stayed home. Perhaps he was weary of war. Maybe he felt as though he’d become too important to be on the front lines. All I know for certain is that David would have been much safer had he been where he belonged—with his troops. Our greatest battles don’t usually come when we’re working hard; they come when we’ve got time on our hands, when we’re bored. That’s when we make those fateful decisions that come back to haunt us.

That’s where David was—with time on his hands, desire on his mind and people at his disposal. He belonged in the battle; instead, he was in the bedroom. He pushed the bedspread back, stretched himself, yawned a couple of times, sighed, then took a stroll on his rooftop patio, overlooking all of Jerusalem. He enjoys the scenes and sights. Then, in the distance, he hears some splashing and perhaps the humming on the lips of a very beautiful woman living just beyond the palace, just within clear sight of his own backyard. The Bible says, “As he looked out over the city, he noticed a woman of unusual beauty taking a bath” (2 Samuel 11:2 NLT).

We don’t know if she intended to get David’s attention, but she certainly did. He looks and likes what he sees. So he inquires about her. He summons a servant and asks, “Who is that!?” The servant replies, “She is Bathsheba, the daughter of Eliam and the wife of Uriah the Hittite” (2 Samuel 11:3 NLT).

The servant laces his information with a warning. He gives not only the woman’s name, but her marital status and the name of her husband. Why tell David she’s married if not to caution him? Why include her husband’s name unless David were familiar with it? Odds are, David knew Uriah. The servant hopes to deftly dissuade the king. But David misses the hint. And as the story continues, we have yet another glimpse into the heart of a man after God’s own heart.

First, what follows reveals a selfish heart.