II SAMUEL 12 AS A DRAMATIC PLAY

This episode of the prophet Nathan confronting King David for his sin of having Uriah killed so that he could take Bathsheba just cries out to be treated as a play. But unfortunately, the words in the text itself are sometimes inadequate in conveying how the actors should play their parts so as to do justice to what the playwright had in mind. That is why the manuscript of most modern plays sometimes contain as many stage directions as actual dialogue. And the lack of such guidance is older plays such as those by Shakespeare is practically an open invitation for today's directors' artistic license to interpret and stage them in a variety of innovative ways, some probably in quite a different manner than Will had envisioned.

So you may be surprised to learn that this particular dramatic OT chapter in some of our earliest available manuscripts contain non-verbal clues as to how the words themselves should be delivered by the actors and pondered by the audience. Rendsburg and Richelle in a recent BAR article discuss the importance of one of these non-verbal clues embedded in the chapter.

As they explain, “One who looks at an ancient Hebrew manuscript, such as any of the Dead Sea Scrolls [which may date as early as the third century B.C.], or even a Torah scroll up to the present day, is immediately struck by the lack of what scholars refer to as paratextual material – the marks and annotations that guide one in how to read a text...The only exception to this general rule is the occasional white space that appears in ancient Hebrew manuscripts. These white spaces, just as they are used today, constitute paragraph breaks.”

They go on to say, “These white spaces are not random. They typically occur at expected places, where one story or episode ends and another one commences. Jewish tradition instructs the reader to pause in such places, to take a second (or two or three) before proceeding to the next section of text.” And then there is the example they cite which appears in two early manuscripts of 2 Samuel in which the list of David's sons and their mothers in verses 3:2-5 is set apart from the surrounding text by a space at its beginning and end, much in the way a set of parentheses would be used today.

But an even more important use of such white spaces within a text is to highlight sections which are especially dramatic in nature. That is where II Samuel 12 comes in. Two of the most complete and ancient Hebrew manuscripts of II Samuel we possess are the Aleppo Codex (about 920 AD) and the Leningrad Codex (1009 AD), both the product of a long line of Jewish scholars who were entrusted with faithfully preserving the OT for centuries. And these manuscripts may be favorably compared with the readings of the Dead Sea Scrolls which date as early as the third century BC.

With that necessary background, it is now appropriate to look at where blank spaces in the text of II Samuel 12 appear in the two codices dating to around 1000 AD. They are employed to set apart both Nathan's dramatic accusation against King David (“You are the man!”) in verse 7 and David's sad recognition response (“I have sinned against the Lord.”).

And this is not the end of the literary devices present which work together to enhance the impart of the story on the reader. As Rendsburg and Richelle go on to say, “Rather than directly rebuking the king, Nathan decides to proceed carefully, by way of a masterfully orchestrated speech [of the rich man stealing the only lamb of a poor man just so he can host a feast]..Nathan's rhetorical strategy works: By telling David a poignant story that seemingly concerned entirely different people, he makes him look at the situation from an external perspective and react with the full weight of his indignation. But David now needs to understand that he acted in the same way as the man whom he has just judged.”

Then regarding v. 13b, Rendsburg and Richelle explain, “The same holds true for the king's reply to the prophet...The reader is asked to ponder David's admission of guilt, by pausing, before proceeding with the story.”

And the above does not exhaust the strategy of the narrator as it is employed in bringing out even more dramatic possibilities in the event. Thus Dale Ralph Davis writes, “Verse 9 specifies the king's sin but with an interesting emphasis. “The Hebrew text places special stress on the direct objects by placing them before the verbs:

    Uriah the Hittite you struck down with the sword;

    wife you took as your own wife;

    But him you killed with the sword of the sons of Ammon.

In this way the text emphasizes that David not only committed iniquity but destroyed persons. He sinned against Yahweh and ruined people.”

Tsumura points out another subtle literary tactic present in this chapter in that the three verbs “eat, drink and lie” employed earlier by Uriah in 11:11 demonstrating his refusal to do all three as long as he was on military duty are now repeated in the same order in Nathan's fictionalized story in 12:3....The rich man took (lqh) the poor man's lamb, just as David took Bathsheba (11:4). It was especially heinous because he had plenty of sheep of his own.”

There is another interesting contrast present in David's angry words in v. 5 when he says, “As the LORD lives, the man who did this deserves to die!”

An even more subtle contrast is pointed out by Joyce Baldwin in that David fully admits to his sin when confronted with it by a prophet from God whereas King Saul in I Samuel 13:12; 15:13; and 15:20 staunchly refused to admit his wrongdoing in Samuel's presence. She also notes the inclusio (i.e. literary bookends to the episode) formed by the movement of Nathan toward (v. 1) and then away from (v. 15) David. One could note a similar inclusio tying together verses 15b and 25, a passage starting and ending with a reference to the LORD as well as the contrasting illness and death of one son followed by the birth of another one.

In another subtle touch, it has been suggested by Coxon that there is a wordplay in v. 6 between “sevenfold” (sibatayim) and the name “Bathsheba.” Whether or not that is true, it should be kept in mind that throughout the Bible “seven” is utilized symbolically as a perfect or complete number, in this case indicating ”complete restitution.”

Rosenberg has another interesting take on the events in this chapter: “David shows himself capable of a rich range of feeling which, for the most part, does not compromise the proportion and restraint in his political behavior. Toward his parents, however, we have already noted the text's silence on David's feelings, and much the same narrative inhibition governs David's relations with spouses in general, and with his children in 2 Samuel 13-14 – leaving us with a sense of David's coldness or inaccessibility to those closest to him. Some of this reserve may stem from the trauma of loss David has already experienced in the death of his first child by Bathsheba, recounted in chapter 12. Once David is informed of this loss, he breaks the fast he has been observing the infant's illness. When his puzzled servants ask him why he now eats, David's answer is quite revealing [see vv. 22-23]...These numb and dispirited words are our first indication that David's energies as parent and ruler are beginning to flag and that he has a newly tangible sense of his own mortality. This awareness, however, has perhaps begun at the end of chapter 11, where David's self-anesthetizing over the death of Uriah signals the extent to which the kingly office has truncated his humanity; significantly, there eating is also a motif: 'Let not the matter be evil in your sight, for the sword eats this way and that. Strengthen your battle!'' (v. 25).”

Pratt: “Old Testament writers demonstrated remarkable honesty in characterization. They did not fabricate qualities for their characters. Their figures often present faults as well as virtues...Nathan called David to account for his adultery (2 Samuel 12:1-14)...The honesty of Old Testament writers heightens our sense of confidence in their characterizations. When human failure played an important role in their stories, they did not hide it. ...In the light of their frank disclosures, we can be assured that Old Testament characterizations are true.”

And although Pratt is totally correct in the above assessment of the historical worth of the biblical accounts, we as Christians must not merely stop there. I once met a man who was quite adamant that we need to accept every single statement in the Bible as the literal truth whatever the immediate context was. However, in attempting to apply the implications of those same words to his daily life, he was not in the least interested. The strong impression he gave others was that as long as he held tight to that one fundamental mantra, he was head and shoulders above most other believers.