The name “Bathsheba” immediately elicits more questions than answers. Yet, how she appears in the Matthew 1 genealogy of the Lord Jesus already speaks volumes: “she who had been the wife of Uriah.” She is not known for herself, but rather as a patriarch’s appendage, a trophy wife perhaps.
Although “Bathsheba” means “Daughter of the Oath” or “Daughter of Promise,” not much of the promise easily comes to light. Daughter of Eliam, granddaughter of Ahitophel, wife of Uriah, conquest of David.
Why do all the details seem to point to the wrong time, the wrong place, the wrong people, the wrong choices, and the most unwelcome consequences? Can’t we relate?
The conditions we suffer are not simply of our own making. We also suffer from the choices of others.
Consider what we don’t know. How did Bathsheba come to be married to a foreigner? Her husband was always referred to as “Uriah the Hittite.” As a non-Israelite, did he have to prove himself more righteous than the righteous?
We typically applaud him for his fidelity in choosing to stay at the king’s door. What do we know of his infidelity in not visiting his wife’s bed? Was Bathsheba marginalized not only by marriage to a foreigner, but also by estrangement from a workaholic?
How did she experience him? Was her well dry because she was not desired? Was her heart broken because she was a childless “less-than”? Was the king’s attention welcome? Did she savor being the object of his desire? “Just this once. Nothing will happen.”
Did she have a choice in the matter? We can only weep at the horrific results, while we are unable to say exactly where all the blame lies. Nevertheless, some of the consequences are immediate: the loss of her husband (did she know it was at the hands of her conqueror?), the need for a cover-up, the birth of a child that is snatched from her before she can ever cherish it. Loss upon loss upon loss. Haven’t we all tasted its bitter dregs lately?
In the midst of chaos, sin, and loss, we, like Bathsheba, experience overwhelming grace. The tables are turned and it is Bathsheba who acquires agency: Mover behind the throne, Queen Mother, Mother of Solomon, the wisest human the world has ever known. Mother of the most illustrious monarch of earthly monarchs.
Here, in Matthew 1, she reappears, ensconced in the heart of the family tree of the King of kings and Lord of lords. Recently, I heard someone say, “The ones He came from are the ones He came for.” Indeed, the God of Sarah, Rachel, Rahab, Ruth, Tamar, and Bathsheba, is the God even of the Seitensprung,* the God of second chances.
This is the God who conjures beauty out of the ashes for the broken ones God came to save. What wondrous love is this, oh my soul!
*Seitensprung: “affair” seems pedestrian in comparison with the expressive sense of the German: “veering off the path of probity, often with disastrous consequences.” To me, it’s not just a skip, it’s a leap!
Ruth Burke loves “stumbling across the surprising actions, large and small, of a God who takes my breath away!”