Asking for a friend

 

Psalm 51: 1-12
New Ark United Church of Christ, Newark, DE
March 21, 2021

Have you ever noticed that there is a little notation at the bottom of the page for every hymn in our hymnal? Many of them are brief stories of how the hymn came to be written. Some of them were written for occasions of celebration, some out of deep grief. Psalm 51 has a story behind it too, but it’s a hard story to tell and to hear. If you have suffered sexual assault or harassment or if someone you love has been murdered, I’ll understand if you want to go make a cup of tea or mute the sound for a few minutes.



The story begins with King David. When he was but a young boy, God chose David to be the next ruler of Israel and God promised that David’s kingdom would be established forever. As king, David had great power, fame, and wealth. He had many wives and concubines with whom he had many children. Like so many powerful men, even though he had everything he could want, he wanted more. One evening when he couldn’t sleep, he went on the roof of his house and saw a woman bathing. He asked his servants to find out who she was. Her name was Bathsheba, and she was married to Uriah, a warrior in the king’s army. David wanted her and so he sent messengers to fetch Bathsheba and bring her to him, after which Bathsheba became pregnant. There is no mention whether Bathsheba consented; after all, David was king, which means he pretty much got whatever he wanted. There is no saying “no” to a king. In fact, the only words we hear Bathsheba speak in this story are when she informs David she is pregnant.



David then sends for her husband Uriah who is on the field of battle. David hoped that Uriah would visit his wife so that later the child would be assumed to be his. But being honorable, Uriah would not allow himself to enjoy any comforts while his fellow warriors slept in an open field. David even went so far as to invite Uriah to dinner and made him drunk, but Uriah still would not go to his house. So David ordered that Uriah be sent to the front line of the battle and everyone else draw back so that Uriah would be killed. When Bathsheba heard that her husband was dead, the text says she wailed, she keened over her husband. After the designated time of mourning, David sent for Bathsheba and she became his wife, again we do not know if she consented to this. The story ends with, “And she bore him a son, and the thing that David had done was evil in the eyes of the Lord”.



And yet the story doesn’t actually end there. God sent the prophet Nathan to David to confront his conscience with what he had done. Nathan told David a story about two men, a rich man and a poor man. The rich man had many sheep and cattle, but the poor man had one little female sheep that he fed at his table and let drink from his cup, who was like a daughter to him. The rich man had an unexpected guest, and rather than give one of his own animals for the feast, he took the poor man’s only sheep instead.



When David heard this, his conscience flared and he was livid. He wanted the rich man punished at once and ordered that he repay the poor man four times what had been wrongfully taken from him. Nathan then lit into David, “You are the man! God gave you everything you have, made you king and granted you everything you wanted. Even if it was too little, God would do as much again for you.” The worst part was when God afflicted the child so it would die, even as David fasted in penance, and still we do not hear Bathsheba’s voice in any of this.

This is the story of Psalm 51, one of, if not the most, penitential psalms of confession and remorse. Even so, David pours it on pretty thick. He knows what he did was wrong, but he goes over the top with his language, even going so far as to say that from the day he was conceived he was a sinner, which sounds like the Christian doctrine of original sin and yet Judaism really has no such concept. More likely, what we can read from this is that David feels that sin is pervasive and unchecked in him. Still, none of us lives a blameless life; we’re all part of the systemic problems we face and perpetuate.



And yet David says that it is against God alone he has sinned. I think Bathsheba and Uriah would have something to say about that, not mention the child that only lived seven days, one day short of being blessed and brought into the covenant with God. Nevertheless, we know David feels his guilt deeply and desires to be put right in his relationship with God, as though he wants to be able to look in the mirror again and know the image of God is reflected there.

It is when David prays these words, he speaks the depths of a true heart that desires mercy:



Create in me a clean heart, O God,
And put a new and right spirit within me.
Do not cast me away from your presence
And do not take your holy spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation
And sustain in me a willing spirit.



“Asking for a friend” has become a way to ask an embarrassing or vulnerable question on social media: Is it okay to wear pajamas to Zoom church? Asking for a friend. What’s the best way to come out to my family? Asking for a friend. What good does it do to pray? Asking for a friend.



In this psalm, a text meant for communal worship, as David asks can he be forgiven for the worst thing he’s ever done, in effect he’s also asking if we can be forgiven for the worst things we’ve ever done. Can I receive mercy, O God? Asking for a friend. Can I face my racism, my materialism, my self-interest, my comfort with the status quo? Asking for a friend. What would it mean to become an antiracist? Asking for a friend. What if I can’t or don’t want to change? Asking for a friend.

As much as we desire accountability for the rich and powerful, it is difficult to create a space in which people want to change. We live in a shameful, ‘gotcha’ culture that loves to lay a trap like the one that Nathan set for David and confront the corrupt with the evil they have done. It has created an atmosphere in which we’re afraid we’ll be found out; our flaws, our implicit bias, our prejudice will be revealed, and everyone will know we’re a fraud. We justify our actions, our choices, our complicity. How can we even consider what transformation would mean for us? What would it even look like?



That’s what I love about 12-step programs. Everyone is in the same boat. No one is better or worse than anyone else. Everyone is trying to get better by helping someone else get better. It’s not built on shame and judgment and punishment but on compassion and empathy as well as responsibility and accountability.

Dutch theologian and Catholic priest Henri Nouwen wrote, “When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand.”



Can I choose to share another’s pain? Asking for a friend.

Do I have the courage to touch another’s wounds with a warm and tender hand? Asking for a friend.

Can I allow someone to share my pain? Asking for a friend.

Do I have the courage to allow someone else to touch my wounds with a warm and tender hand? Asking for a friend.



Can we be mercy for one another? Can we be a birthplace of transformation?

Asking for a church.

Create in me a clean heart, O God,
And put a new and right spirit within me.
Do not cast me away from your presence
And do not take your holy spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation
And sustain in me a willing spirit.



Benediction – Christian Aid


Restore to us the joy of your salvation, Holy One.
May refugees be restored to safety.
May flooded land and places of drought be restored to fertile ground.
May broken hearts be restored to wholeness.
May fearful lives be restored to peaceful rest.
May compassion fatigue be restored to hopeful perseverance.
Restore to us the joy of your salvation, O God.
Grant in us a willing spirit to sustain us.
Amen.