Last week I finished the prodigal cycle of epic poems an have chosen this week to read an old favorite of mine from 1989 about Uriah. Now remember that Uriah was the husband of Bathsheba, with whom David committed adultery and then had Uriah killed so that he could have his wife. The Bible tells us that Uriah was a Hittite, which raises the question how he came to be in Israel anyway, especially fighting in the trusted forces of Joab. So I enter the story now, when Uriah was a boy.
When he was small his mother told Him many times the tales of old, When Hittites ruled the mountains and The plains, and conquered all the land From western seas to rivers in The west. She said they used to win Their battles by the chivalry And strength that enemies could see On bloody fields, and by the creed Of honor to abstain from greed And lust. She said once to the boy, "Uriah, I recall the joy Your father brought when he'd return From victory. My heart would burn Like fire with good news from Haran. Your father was a mighty man Of war. One time he never came. You were too young to know. His name Was read among the valiant dead. Your uncle El-Eroduth said He buried him with honor though, And that your father's mighty bow Was full-bent to the end. He brought A note to me and said, ‘You ought To read this to Uriah when He's old enough to sit with men And dream of war.' Your father wrote, ‘Dear son, I leave to you my coat, My bow, my honor and my name. I had a dream tonight. God came And told me that tomorrow I Must die. He said, "Above the sky I rule the heavens and the earth; I bring the tiny child to birth. No ruler rises but by Me, None falls but at My own decree. By My design the sparrow dies, By My decree the arrow flies." My son, do not resent God's choice. There was a glory in his voice That made me want to rise and go. There's one thing more that you must know And love. Uriah, mark this well: He was the God of Israel.' Uriah waited for his mother's word. "Do you believe what you have heard?" She asked. "Do you?" he said. "I do, My son, and always have. Now you And I must leave this place and go Up to Jerusalem and throw Ourselves upon the God of grace, And pray that he would make his face To shine in tender mercy on A Hittite widow and her son. There we will live and spend our days, And we will learn the Jewish ways, And we will have a happy life, And take for you a holy wife. And you will learn to love and sing, And serve a good and righteous king." The years went by. Uriah and His mother found the promised land A place of joy. The boy grew strong; And handsome too. It wasn't long Before he showed his father's craft: His sword was swift and every shaft Shot from his father's bow would score. He was a mighty man of war. The very year his mother died God found for him a holy bride. Bathsheba was her name, and they Were much in love. A one year stay Was given them according to The law, and then Uriah drew His lot to fight the Ammonites. Safe in the shadow of the heights Of David's palace, there he left His wife, a dove within the cleft Of David's care and love: no less A shield than royal righteousness. And while Uriah risked his life, The righteous king lay with his wife; And she was found to be with child. And now the noble king, beguiled By lust, sent for the man of war. And soon Uriah stood before The king. "My servant Joab said You are a fearful man of dread Against the Ammonites. Well done, Take your reward: before the sun Breaks forth now bathe yourself for love; Go down and nestle with your dove." Uriah smiled the way a friend Would smile, and took his leave to spend The night beside the palace gate.
"Have you not even seen your mate, Uriah?" David said. "Pray tell Why do you not go bid her well?" Uriah looked perplexed, and then He said, "My lord, you know that when The Hittites went to war, they made A solemn vow, and never laid With wife or concubine until The deadly battle ceased. And will The king of Israel accept Allegiance from a man who slept At home, while others sleep alone On fleshless beds made out of stone? My lord, this would not suit you well: You are the king of Israel!" Then David tried to make him drunk, And failing this, the monarch sunk, As low as he would ever sink, As near the final, fatal brink Of no return as he could be: The note to Joab read: "Now see That this Uriah fall before He comes back to me anymore. Press him against the city wall And let the arrows do it all." And on the morrow it was done. And Joab sent a man to run And tell the king. "Be sure to say, ‘Your friend Uriah died today.' Then tell him that we found this note Sealed for the king inside his coat." And so the word arrived that night And David heard by candlelight. "A note?" "Yes, Sire, and sealed by his Own ring, for you, and here it is." "Well done, young man, now you may go, I'll call you if you need to know." He broke the seal and read the note: "My lord, I leave to her my coat, My bow, my honor and my name. I had a dream tonight. God came And told me that tomorrow I Must die. He said, ‘Above the sky I rule the heavens and the earth; I bring the tiny child to birth. No ruler rises but by Me, None falls but at My own decree. By My design the sparrow dies, By My decree the arrow flies.' My Lord, tonight I bow before The King of kings and I adore The mercy and the power that sought Me as a Hittite boy and brought Me to Jerusalem, and let Me know the living God, and set Me in the service of his king, And taught me by your psalms to sing. And I embrace the Lord's decree, For He has granted me to see That she will bear another child, And by Him all that's been defiled By you — and me — will be like snow. And now farewell, my Lord, I go." Come, you who know it is too late To save the victims of your hate. For in the fire of candle three Christ purges even treachery.
Logos.ReferenceTagging.lbsBibleVersion = "ESV"; Logos.ReferenceTagging.lbsLinksOpenNewWindow = true; Logos.ReferenceTagging.lbsLibronixLinkIcon = "dark"; Logos.ReferenceTagging.lbsNoSearchTagNames = [ "h1", "h2", "h3" ]; Logos.ReferenceTagging.lbsCssOverride = true; Logos.ReferenceTagging.tag(); By John Piper. © 1989, 2001 Desiring God. Website: desiringGod.org
