Perspective

2 Samuel 11:26-12:13a; Ephesians 4:1-16

Where do you see yourself in the story that Nathan tells David?

Where do you see yourself in the story of a man rich in flocks and herds, and a poor man who has nothing - nothing but one lamb, so precious that he treats it as a child, feeding it from his own plate?

There’s evidence of love in the poor man’s life. And the rich man evidently has all the comfort and luxury and security one might want. You could want to be either one.

Until the rich man steals from the poor. Welcomes a visitor for dinner, then looks at all the flocks and herds that surround him, thinks “but there’s nothing in the fridge” and takes the one lamb from the poor man to serve as dinner.

Where do you see yourself in this story?

What do you want to do?

David empathizes right away with the poor man. He’s ready to kill the rich man; he demands restitution, he’s ready to leap out of his seat and rush off to right the wrong.

Until Nathan shocks him into recognition, telling him,”You are the man.”

Now David sees himself in the story.  Sees himself as the rich man who has been so brutal, greedy, and callous in his power that he deserves to die.

Has that ever happened to you? Have you suddenly seen yourself from someone else’s perspective, and not liked what you saw?
I have. I’ve felt that slightly nauseous recognition; distress and dismay or defensive shock.

And if you’ve had that moment, you might know might know how David feels to recognize the story of his own actions: the man who has everything taking Bathsheba to please himself, and sending her husband to death to cover it up. Even in marrying her – perhaps thinking to protect her, perhaps just making her his own – David took what did not belong to him, oblivious to his cruelty and theft.

And before Nathan told him this story, he probably thought of himself as a good guy. A man in love, a man entitled to the best because he’d fought and worked hard for it; a man trying to clean up after his own mistakes and protect the woman he loved (or at least lusted for).

It’s a series of perspective shifts that could give you whiplash: Good guy, vulnerable man, justice warrior, cruel death-deserving thief. Yikes. And the perspective shifting doesn’t stop there.

You are this man, Nathan tells him, and goes on to remind him of who else he is: one chosen and anointed by God, given gifts and power and wealth and responsibility – more than he could earn or even desire. And God would have given him as much more again.

Nathan shows David that he’s insulted God by his actions against other people. And now he’ll get what he has earned: trouble and loss in his own house, as he’s brought trouble and loss to others.

And now David experiences his final shift in perspective in this story. “I have sinned,” he says, “against the Lord.”

With this final shift in perspective, David sees what God wants us always to see: ourselves as we are in relationship to God.

Nathan first shows David how he’s been relating to other people, then reminds him of who he is in God’s eyes: chosen, gifted, responsible, blessed – and now, insulting.

By seizing what he wants, instead of receiving what he’s been given, David insults God’s generosity, blessing, and choice.

And when he sees himself clearly as the one to whom God has given so much, he sees how he has hurt God as well as other people.

I have sinned against the Lord.

Has that perspective shift ever happened to you? Have you seen yourself as God sees you: chosen, beloved, blessed with gifts you neither asked nor earned?

I have. I’ve felt that sense of overwhelming blessing, and gratitude.

And then, sometimes, like David, I’ve been overwhelmed by grief at how I didn’t live up to God’s generosity and love, feel an upwelling of confession and repentance flowing from the gratitude and grief.

Has that happened to you?

It’s tempting – not just tempting, but almost mandatory in the everyday world we live in – to see ourselves in terms of power, or our relationship with others. We are taught to see ourselves as employee or boss or client; parent, child, neighbor, stranger, friend. Customer or voter or bystander.

That’s how the world tells us to see ourselves.

Then from that perspective the world tells us we have to get what we can, seize what we want, take what we deserve.

And that’s how the poor man loses his lamb.

That’s how Bathsheba becomes an object instead of a person; desired and abruptly taken by David; how Uriah became an obstacle instead of a human being; an obstacle to be eliminated by David.

That’s how children at our borders become pawns, objects to manipulate their parents, to terrify and distract and deter.

That’s how women become objects in our own day and place; how cities choke on industrial pollution; and children are poisoned by their drinking water; how voters become objects to manipulate and trade and own; instead of citizens responsible for their choices.

That’s what happens when we lose perspective. When we see ourselves defined by power and powerlessness; by what we want and need and earn, instead of by the gifts and choosing and love of God. Instead of seeing ourselves the way God sees us, as gifted and beloved, called to God’s own purpose, called and gifted to build one another up.

And when God’s perspective comes back to us; when we suddenly or gradually recognize ourselves as the lamb in Nathan’s story: beloved, nurtured and cared for as God’s own child, given all that God’s love can give, we can also see God’s grief when we are torn away from God by any human entitlement or ignorance or selfish purpose, and feel God’s desire for our restoration.

Then, like David, we can see ourselves as both sinners and beloved; gifted for God’s purpose even in the midst of our flaws, and be inspired to live up to God’s love all over again.

God sent Nathan to David with a story of a lamb to shift David’s perspective and help him see as God sees.

And God sent Jesus to all of us, a person and a story, to help shift our perspective: to see life in death, to see ourselves in Christ; to see ourselves as God sees us: beloved child; flawed and failed, while still called and gifted – materially, spiritually – for a purpose – God’s purpose – of building one another up.

I beg you, therefore, to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.