Tag: forgiveness

Have mercy on me … wash me thoroughly … blot out my iniquities (Psalm 51; Pentecost 11B)

Last Sunday we heard the story of David’s adultery with Bathsheba (2 Sam 11:1–15). In the passage that we hear this Sunday (2 Sam 11:26—12:13), the prophet Nathan regales him with a tale of a rich man with “very many flocks and herds” and a poor man with “nothing but one little ewe lamb” who was much loved and was “like a daughter to him” (12:1–3).

See

Nathan’s story ends with a powerful punchline: “he took the poor man’s lamb, and prepared that for the guest who had come to him” (12:4). The point is clear; the rich man has acted unjustly. David immediately erupts in anger at the selfish acts of the rich man. “As the Lord lives”, he exclaims, “the man who has done this deserves to die” (12:5). And yet, after a lengthy diatribe from the prophet, speaking forth the word of the Lord to the king (12:7–14), David changes his tune.

Nathan confronts David

“I have sinned against the Lord”, David says to Nathan, who then reassures him, “now the Lord has put away your sin; you shall not die” (12:13). Nathan has executed his prophetic role with power: calling David to account. At least the king recognises his sin and repents. God both punishes and forgives him.

Reflecting on the nature of repentance, and forgiveness, we are led to ponder Psalm 51: “have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions”, the psalmist sings. The first half of this song (Ps 51:1–12) is offered by the lectionary as the Psalm for this coming Sunday.

The ascription at the head of this psalm makes the traditional connection with David (as is also the case with 72 other psalms in the book), and provides a specific occasion for the writing of this psalm: “when the prophet Nathan came to him, after he had gone in to Bathsheba”. It would seem that the psalm first this occasion quite neatly.

This is one of a dozen psalms that each has an ascription which relates the particular song to an incident in David’s life: “when he fled from his son Absalom” (Ps 3; 2 Sam 15); “when the Lord delivered him from the hand of all his enemies and from the hand of Saul” (Ps 18; 2 Sam 22); “when he pretended to be insane before Abimelech, who drove him away, and he left” (Ps 34; 1 Sam 21); “when Doeg the Edomite had gone to Saul and told him, ‘David has gone to the house of Ahimelech’” (Ps 52; 1 Sam 22); “when the Ziphites had gone to Saul and said, ‘Is not David hiding among us?’” (Ps 54; 1 Sam 23); “when the Philistines had seized him in Gath” (Ps 56; 1 Sam 21); “when he had fled from Saul into the cave” (Ps 57; 1 Sam 22); “when he fought Aram Naharaim and Aram Zobah, and when Joab returned and struck down twelve thousand Edomites in the Valley of Salt” (Ps 60; 2 Sam 8); “when he was in the Desert of Judah” (Ps 63; 1 Sam 22–23); and “when he was in the cave” (Ps 142; 1 Sam 22).

Whether any of these ascriptions do report the actual incident that motivated the psalm—or whether the historical note was added subsequently by a later person, on the basis that “this seems to fit”—we cannot definitively say. So whether this particular ascription for Ps 51 is historically accurate or not, it does provide an appropriate insight into the emotions that the writer presents, on an occasion when deep grief and profound contrition appears to have been stirred up.

If this psalm was written by David after he had raped Bathsheba, it could well indicate a profound transformation, from the all-powerful monarch to the humbly repentant sinner. If it is (as many scholars believe, on the basis of language and style) a later exilic creation, it still expresses the inner this formation that can come to a person of faith when they understand the extent of their sin and seek the loving forgiveness of the Lord. In this latter case, it is a psalm for all of us, when confronted with our sinfulness, and challenged to repent. It is a song that envisages a thoroughgoing moral transformation.

Personally, I am sceptical about the historical value of this ascription. Aside from the specific linguistic criticisms that have been advanced, it does not sit well with the character of David as revealed elsewhere in the historical narratives of 1–2 Samuel. The scheming of the king and the aggression of David’s men in battle after battle, both before and after this incident, do not indicate someone with a deep reflective capacity or a totally transformed personality.

David rose to power, maintained his power, and consolidated his kingdom through brute military force in many battles over the years. His kingship was a reign of sheer power; he was a warrior king. I have surveyed the battles that David was engaged in throughout his time as king in an earlier blog; see

David took the stronghold of Zion, which is now the city of David (2 Sam 5; Pentecost 7B)

After his confrontation with Nathan, David continues in this vein; he goes on to conclude his war against the Ammonites (2 Sam 12:26–31), refuses to punish Amnon for his rape of Tamar (ch.13), did battle against Absalom when he usurped the throne (chs. 15—18), put down an uprising led by Sheba son of Bichri (ch.20), and fought various battles against the Gibeonites and the Philistines (ch.21) before he dies (1 Ki 2:10). His character as warrior king remains unabated.

It is true that after his confrontation with Nathan, David does show mercy to various men: first, to his third son, Absalom (ch.14), and then to Shimei son of Gera, Mephibosheth the grandson of Saul, and Barzillai the Gileadite (ch.19).

However, it is quite telling that the final remembrance of King David is the list of “the warriors of David” with recounting of some of their exploits (ch.23) and then the census that he ordered (24:1–9)—although this latter act was something that he immediately regretted (24:10). Nevertheless, it seems that his character remains consistent with the warrior king David who raped Bathsheba and ordered the death of Uriah the Hittite.

So is Psalm 51 an authentically Davidic expression of remorse and repentance? J. Richard Middleton believes that, whilst there are some indications that do link this psalm with the narrative of 2 Sam 11–12, there are a number of disjunctures. He outlines his case in a carefully-argued article that compares the two passages of scripture.

“A Psalm against David? A Canonical Reading of Psalm 15 as a Critique of David’s Inadequate Repentance in 2 Samuel 12” (ch.2, pp.26 in Explorations in Interdisciplinary Reading. Theological, Exegetical, and Reception-Historical Perspectives, ed. Robbie F. Castleman, Darian R. Lockett, and Stephen O. Presley; Pickwick, 2017). See https://jrichardmiddleton.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/08/middleton-a-psalm-against-david-explorations-in-interdisciplinary-reading-20171.pdf

First, Middleton notes that the psalmist pleads to be delivered from death (Ps 51:16), yet David is explicitly told he will not die (2 Sam 12:13). Second, the psalmist envisages that the process of forgiveness will be lengthy and repetitive (Ps 51:1–2, 7, 9), whilst David receives immediate forgiveness (2 Sam 12:13).

Third, the psalmist offers petitions for many different things, but David only “pleaded with God for [his] child; David fasted, and went in and lay all night on the ground” (2 Sam 12:16). Finally, whilst the psalmist confesses “against you, you alone, have I sinned, and done what is evil in your sight” (Ps 51:4), David’s sins (as I have noted in previous blogs) are against Bathsheba and Uriah, as well as “against the Lord” (2 Sam 12:13).

Middleton adds to this the observation that there is a noticeable dissonance between the prose narrative and the poetic song in terms of the extent of moral reformation that follows on from the confession of sin. The psalmist prays “in verse 10 for a pure heart and a steadfast spirit and in verse 12 for a willing spirit—a request that is related to God’s desire for faithfulness in the inner person (which was articulated in verse 6)”.

In contrast to this, Middleton argues (on p.39) that “not only is this request never voiced by the David of the Samuel narrative, it is (more importantly) never fulfilled in David’s life”. He notes that “the David of the narrative certainly has the broken spirit and broken and crushed heart that the psalmist says is a true, godly sacrifice in verse 17”, he nevertheless “does not get beyond this to the moral reformation of character presupposed in the psalm”.

Middleton deduces from this that “while the psalmist is broken and crushed in spirit prior to receiving forgiveness, and so pleads desperately for cleansing and restoration, the David of 2 Samuel is broken and crushed in spirit after receiving forgiveness and remains an ambivalent character for the rest of the Samuel” (p.40). So what the narrator has conveyed in the account of David’s rather knee-jerk (and perhaps superficial) response to Nathan’s confronting words indicates that he falls far short of the personal angst that led the author of Psalm 51 to a deep personal transformation.

Which means both, that we treat with caution the way that David is so lauded and exalted and painted in such a positive way in much of the 1–2 Samuel narrative; and that we appreciate the profound nature of the thoughts and feelings expressed by the psalmist (most likely NOT King David) in Psalm 51. It could well be a psalm that each one of us could pray, at an appropriate occasion.

See also

A new and right spirit (Ps 51; Lent 5B)

A new and right spirit (Ps 51; Lent 5B)

“Put a new and right spirit within me”, the psalmist sings (Ps 51:10), in the psalm that is offered by the lectionary for this coming Sunday, the Fifth Sunday in Lent, as a companion piece for the well-known Hebrew Scripture passage for this Sunday about the “new covenant” to be given to Israel and Judah (Jer 31:31–34).

Perhaps the key to this passage comes in the prophet’s words from God, “this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel; I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people.” (Jer 31:33). For more on this passage, see

A new covenant with the people (Jeremiah 31; Pentecost 19C)

The prophet indicates that the promise God offers is that “I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sin no more” (Jer 31:34b), which is perhaps why the psalmist is confident to pray for God to have mercy: “blot out my transgressions, wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin” (v.2), then “purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow” (v.7), and still more, “hide your face from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities” (v.9).

Forgiveness of sin has been a characteristic of the Lord God throughout the narrative books which tell the saga of Israel. Abraham bargains with God about forgiving Sodom (Gen 18:22–33). Moses likewise pleads with God, after the people had built a Golden Calf, to forgive them—“but if not, blot me out of the book that you have written” (Exod 32:32).

Yet these narratives also make it clear that God’s forgiving nature needs to be balanced by an understanding of the vengeance that upholds divine justice. In the wilderness of Paran, after spies returned from Canaan and stirred up discontent amongst the people, Moses recognises this capacity for vengeance; he implores the Lord not to kill the people in retaliation, praying, “forgive the iniquity of this people according to the greatness of your steadfast love, just as you have pardoned this people, from Egypt even until now”—to which the Lord God replied, “I have forgiven them, just as you have asked” (Num 14:19–20).

This story also indicates that divine forgiveness was conditional, for God immediately declared, “none of the people who have seen my glory and the signs that I did in Egypt and in the wilderness, and yet have tested me these ten times and have not obeyed my voice, shall see the land that I swore to give to their ancestors; none of those who despised me shall see it” (Num 14:22–23).

Later in this same book, note is made that “the Lord will forgive” a woman who makes a vow that displeases her father (Num 30:5) or her husband (Num 30:8, 12). God clearly sided with the male who had positional authority in the patriarchal structures of society!

At the renewal of the covenant when the people are in the land of Canaan, Joshua reminds the people that “you cannot serve the Lord, for he is a holy God. He is a jealous God; he will not forgive your transgressions or your sins. If you forsake the Lord and serve foreign gods, then he will turn and do you harm, and consume you, after having done you good” (Josh 24:19–20).

When Solomon dedicates the temple, he recounts the saga of Israel and five times asks for God to “hear in heaven” and “forgive your people who have sinned against you, and all their transgressions that they have committed against you” (1 Kings 8:30, 34, 36, 39, 50). And when Ezra leads a ceremony of rededication for the people as they return to the land after exile, in his extended prayer he reminds God, “you are a God ready to forgive, gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, and you did not forsake them” (Neh 9:17).

So the psalmists pray for God to forgive sins (Ps 25:18; 65:3; 79:9), confident that “there is forgiveness with you, so that you may be revered” (Ps 130:4). Amos prays to God, “O Lord God, forgive, I beg you!How can Jacob stand? He is so small!” (Amos 7:2), Daniel likewise pleads, “O Lord, hear; O Lord, forgive; O Lord, listen and act and do not delay!” (Dan 9:19).

Both Jeremiah (Jer 33:8; 36:3) and Ezekiel (Ezek 16:63) envisage that God will forgive, although Hosea reports the strident command of God when his wife bore a daughter: “name her Lo-ruhamah, for I will no longer have pity on the house of Israel or forgive them” (Hos 1:6). This is what we have come to expect from the prophetic word, which consistently berates the people and warns them of the judgement that God will bring upon them because of their sinfulness. See

The Day, The End: themes in The Prophets

By contrast, God continues, “I will have pity on the house of Judah, and I will save them by the Lord their God” (Hos 1:7). So forgiveness—limited, directed by divine decree—is indeed possible. Accordingly, we see in the psalm for this Sunday (Psalm 51:1–12) that the psalmist is confident to seek divine forgiveness, declaring “I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me” (v.3), even going so far as to say “I was born guilty, a sinner when my mother conceived me” (v.5).

That’s a serious claim. Augustine would certainly agree, no doubt. Personally, I find this a hard view to agree with, however; see

Original Sin? or Innate Goodness? (Genesis 2, Romans 5; Lent 1A)

It is in the spirit of seeking divine compassion for the sinfulness of humanity that the psalmist ends this section of the psalm with another petition for forgiveness: “restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit” (v.12). In forgiveness, there is joy at what God does and a willingness to continue to work with God into the future.

These ancient words, we can be confident, stand as relevant and nourishing for people of faith today, deep into this Lenten season. And so we hear this psalm this coming Sunday.

Dealing with divine violence (Matt 18; Pentecost 16A)

“Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?” (Matt 18:21). We know the question—and we know the answer. “If a person sins against you seven times a day, and turns back to you seven times and says, ‘I repent,’ you must forgive”, Jesus says, at least according to Luke’s Gospel (Luke 17:4).

Not so in Matthew’s Gospel. Forgiving seven times, as demanding as that is, is not enough—at least according to the Jesus of Matthew’s Gospel. “Not seven times”, says this Jesus, “but, I tell you, seventy-seven times” (Matt 18:22).

We hear this conversation, and an ensuing parable, on this coming Sunday, as it is the Gospel passage proposed by the lectionary. It follows on from last week’s passage dealing with conflict within the community (18:15–20).

And so, this particular Matthean representation of Jesus appears, on the face of it, to be a more generous, accepting, grace-filled version, than even the Jesus of Luke’s Gospel! Forgiveness is important—so important that it needs to be offered, over and over again, we might assume.

Well, hold on—not so fast. Because immediately after reporting this word of Jesus, the author of Matthew’s Gospel reports him offering a parable which contains a number of difficult—indeed, troublesome—elements. He sets a scene involving a king and a number of slaves. How those characters behave is interesting. The end result is that one slave is thrown into prison “to be tortured until he would pay his entire debt” (18:34).

Slaves, of course, were present in the world in which Jesus lives. Their presence is noted in scenes, such as when we see mention of the sick slave of a centurion (Matt 8:5–13; Luke 7:1–10) and a slave of the high priest (Mark 14:47; Matt 26:51; Luke 22:50; John 18:10). They are recurrent characters in the parables of Jesus (Mark 12:1–12 and parallels; Matt 24:45–51; Luke 12:35–40, 42–48; 14:15–24; 19:11–27; 20:9–19). Slaves are also referred to in a number of the sayings of Jesus (Mark 10:44; Matt 6:24; 10:24–25; 20:27; Luke 16:13; 17:7–10; John 8:34–36).

The character of a king appears in a number of parables of Jesus, in both the Gospel of Luke (Luke 14:31–32; and see also 19:27) and that of Matthew (Matt 18:23–35; 22:1–14; 25:31–46). In this last parable, the final scene of judgement of the nations (25:31–46), the king functions as God’s representative, delivering his commendation of those who acted correctly, but judgement on those who failed to do so.

In the parable we will hear this coming Sunday (18:21–35), the king initially demands repayment of a large debt owed to him by one of his slaves. When the slave cannot pay, he plans to sell him and all his goods and family. However, after being begged by the slave, the king remits the debt (18:27). This part of the parable clearly illustrates the instruction of Jesus concerning forgiveness (18:22).

In the next parable found in Matthew’s Gospel (22:1–14), whilst dealing with guests who turn down his invitation to attend a wedding feast and murder the slaves he had sent to them, the king does not act so graciously; we are told that he “was enraged; he sent his troops, destroyed those murderers, and burned their city” (22:7).

Then, when a guest does enter dressed without his wedding robe, the king was initially rendered speechless, before ordering his attendants, “Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth” (22:13). This is hardly the action of a leader who is following the exhortation to “forgive seventy times seven”!

This destructive rampage by the king fits alongside the reaction of the slave in the earlier parable. Although himself forgiven of his massive debt of “ten thousand talents” (18:27)—an impossible huge debt, completely unrealistic—he refuses to forgive his fellow-slave who owes him much less, “a hundred denarii” (18:28–30)—a more realistic amount to owe. He has this slave thrown into prison—but on hearing of this, his master, the king, who had earlier practised forgiveness (18:25–27), turns on his slave, now seen as “you wicked slave”, and condemns him “to be tortured until he would pay his entire debt” (18:34).

So I am somewhat bemused by the inclusion of this parable. Had Jesus stopped at verse 27 (“out of pity for him, the lord of that slave released him and forgave him the debt”), the parable would have been a fine example of the principle of “forgive seventy times seven”. But it doesn’t stop there. It continues on for another eight verses, and those verses tell of the complete opposite of gracious forgiveness.

The idea of forgiving someone who himself had failed to show forgiveness is thus doomed to failure. And not only that—it is not simply the king in the parable who acts with vengeance, it is the “heavenly Father” who will act in this way towards anybody who “does not forgive your brother or sister from your heart” (18:35). It seems that God is fundamentally a God of vengeance, not of grace.

This should not surprise us if we look elsewhere in this Gospel, to see how Jesus portrays God. Whilst God feeds the birds of the air (6:24), “clothes the grass of the field” (6:30), casts out demons through the Spirit (12:28), commands the honouring of parents (15:4), joins together man and woman to be come “one flesh” (19:4–6), and is able to deliver “the one who trusts in him” (27:43), there are more ominous actions of the divine being that Jesus reflects in his teachings.

Whilst Jesus teaches that the kingdom of heaven will be characterised by being like a child (18:1–5), a number of parables indicate that what transpires in the kingdom will vary, depending on how a person has behaved in life. Those who commit to the righteous-justice that Jesus teaches (5:20; 6:33; 21:32) “will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father” (13:53) and will hear gracious words of welcome: “come, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world” (25:34). Their fate is to enter into “eternal life” (25:46).

However, those who fail to live in accord with this way of righteous-justice will encounter a different message: “you that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels” (25:41). Their fate is terrible; the “eternal punishment” that is noted at the conclusion of this parable (25:46) is variously described in other places within this Gospel.

The slave who was not prepared for the return of his master—in the first of four parables (24:45–51) which conclude the final teaching discourse of Jesus—ends with clear punishment: “put him with the hypocrites, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth” (24:51). Jesus had spoken the instruction to “throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth” in the parable where a person came to a wedding inappropriately dressed (22:14). This is a recurrent motif in Matthew’s Gospel.

He has also pointed to the same punishment for lawless and disobedient people in other places: in his words of judgement spoken in Capernaum, where he encounters a distressed centurion (8:12); in his explanation of the parable of the weeds and the wheat (13:42); in the parable of the good and bad fish (13:50); and in the parable of the talents (25:30).

It is a punishment that is taken from Hebrew Scripture texts: “the wicked plot against the righteous and gnash their teeth at them (Ps 37:12); “the wicked gnash their teeth and melt away; the desire of the wicked comes to nothing” (Ps 112:10); “malicious witnesses … impiously mocked more and more, gnashing at me with their teeth” (Ps 35:11,16). The prophet laments that when Jerusalem is ransacked, “all your enemies open their mouths against you, they hiss, they gnash their teeth, they cry ‘we have devoured her!’” (Lam 2:16). It is a well-known form of torment and punishment.

The parable of the unprepared servant also has this apparently savage instruction: “he will cut him in pieces” (24:51). We find that in Hebrew Scripture, this was an action used in sacrificing animals (1 Kings 18:23, 33) and as a warning of judgement against sinners—in the terrible story of the Levite’s concubine (Judges 19:29), after Saul defeated the Ammonites (1 Sam 11:7), and also in direct prophetic warnings (Isa 45:2; 51:9; Ezek 16:40; Dan 2:34; also Judith 5:22). This is the fate decreed for the unprepared slave—a terrible end, indeed!

Throughout this Gospel, Jesus declares that sinners are destined for “the judgement of fire” (Matt 5:22; 7:19; 13:40, 42, 50; 18:8–9; 25:41). This picks up from the warning of John the baptiser, which Matthew has added to his Markan source: “You brood of vipers! who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? … even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire” (Matt 3:7, 10).

That place is described by Jesus, in parables unique to Matthew, as “the furnace of fire” (Matt 13:43, 50; 25:41). Sinners will be sent to a place of “eternal fire” (18:8; 25:41), “the hell of fire” (5:22; 18:9), the “unquenchable fire” threatened by John: “the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire” (3:12). This builds on the warnings found in Mark’s Gospel about the punishment in store for those who put stumbling blocks in the way of “these little ones”—they will be condemned to “the unquenchable fire” (Mark 9:42–48). These warnings are repeated by Jesus in Matt 18:6–9.

Matthew’s portrayal of Jesus is consistent in reporting that he warns his followers, again and again, of the fiery fate that awaits evildoers. Once again, this picks up on Hebrew Scripture passages in which various prophets declare that God will use fire to destroy people and places because of their sinfulness (Isa 1:7; 5:24; 30:27–28, 30, 33 18–19; Jer 4:4; 6:27–30; 20:47–48; Hos 8:14; Joel 2:1–3; Amos 1:4—2:5; Nah 1:15).

Amongst those prophetic oracles, Zephaniah, for instance, portrays utter devastation through divine judgement: “neither their silver nor their gold will be able to save them on the day of the Lord’s wrath; in the fire of his passion the whole earth shall be consumed” (Zeph 1:18).

However, the final prophet in the Christian Old Testament, Malachi, reworks this imagery, offering some hope; God’s messenger on The Day of the Lord “is like a refiner’s fire and like fullers’ soap; he will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver, and he will purify the descendants of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, until they present offerings to the Lord in righteousness” (Mal 3:1–4).

A number of psalms reflect the desire for God to punish evildoers severely; “pour out your indignation upon them, and let your burning anger overtake them” is the cry of one psalm (Ps 69:24). Another psalm notes the vengeance of God—“in your hearts you devise wrongs; your hands deal out violence on earth” (Ps 58:2)—and suggests that “the righteous will rejoice when they see vengeance done; they will bathe their feet in the blood of the wicked” (Ps 58:10). We must wonder: did Jesus pray these psalms? did he concur with their ideas? did he pray for God to act with vengeance?

The image of fiery punishment comes from the story of Daniel (Dan 3:1–30) and appears again in the last book of the New Testament, where the prophet describes his visions of “the lake of fire that burns with sulfur” (Rev 19:20; 20:10, 14–15), also described as “the second death” (Rev 20:14; 21:8). It is there that the devil, the beast, and the false prophet “will be tormented day and night forever and ever” (Rev 20:10). Matthew appears to share some similarities with the writer of this book, for as we have noted, eternal punishment in a fiery furnace features also in the words of Jesus in Matthew’s Gospel.

So we can’t simply brush aside the closing words of the parable which is in focus this coming Sunday—the Heavenly Father, we are told, will follow the example of the unforgiving servant, who will be “tortured until he would pay his entire debt” (18:34–35), in the service of ensuring that faithful people do indeed forgive one another! (How he will be able to pay off his debt while he is being tortured in prison, I do not know!)

Such punishment is consistent with the way that God’s justice will be implemented, according to the various teachings and parables of Jesus in Matthew’s Gospel that we have already noted. It will be incredibly hard to be let off the hook by this fierce, punitive God!! We are left with the conundrum: what are we to make of this aggressively violent, retributive God?

*****

I have had a go at addressing this conundrum in terms of how it is presented in Hebrew Scripture, at

The Day, The End: themes in The Prophets

and

Justice, and only justice, you shall follow.