The story tells us exactly what David is doing. He tells Uriah to go home and he sends Uriah payment (“a gift”) to let David off the hook. We don’t know the reason—perhaps Uriah loved his wife or perhaps the gift was too small—but Uriah won’t play ball: “But Uriah slept at the entrance to the palace with all his master’s servants and did not go down to his house. David was told, ‘Uriah did not go home’” (2 Sam 11:9-10).
Uriah’s reason for sleeping at the palace entrance was to make a public statement. Everyone, including David, knows now that Uriah is not letting David off the hook. The narrator doesn’t want us to miss this: “David was told.” So David ups the ante; he calls Uriah back for another conference. The very act of a mere mercenary soldier—remember, Uriah is not an Israelite—having a second audience with the king is a veiled threat. He asks Uriah, “Haven’t you just come from a military campaign? Why didn’t you go home?” (2 Sam 11:10). It is likely that Uriah is angry. His response shames David in three ways. First, Uriah notes that everyone (with one exception) was where they were supposed to be: in the field with the army. “Uriah said to David, ‘The ark and Israel and Judah are staying in tents, and my commander Joab and my lord’s men are camped in the open country. How could I go to my house to eat and drink and make love to my wife? As surely as you live, I will not do such a thing!’” (2 Sam 11:11). Even God (symbolized by the ark) was there. Everyone was there, that is, but David. Second, Uriah notes the one in the field commanding the army—doing David’s job—was Joab, not David. This was all the more poignant because Uriah was a paid solder, a Hittite mercenary. He has less reason to fight for Israel than David had. Lastly, Uriah indicates to David he knows exactly what David wants and will not cooperate: “and make love to my wife.”
So David switches strategies and tries to get Uriah to pass out drunk. He can then have the unconscious Uriah tossed into the front door of his house. But that doesn’t work either. “Then David said to him, ‘Stay here one more day, and tomorrow I will send you back.’ So Uriah remained in Jerusalem that day and the next. At David’s invitation, he ate and drank with him, and David made him drunk. But in the evening Uriah went out to sleep on his mat among his master’s servants; he did not go home” (2 Sam 11:12-13).
Now it is clear to everyone, including David, that Uriah will not give David an honorable way out of this mess. It was customary for Mediterranean kings merely to seize whatever they wanted. King Ahab wanted Naboth’s vineyard, for example, so he took it (1 Kings 21:18). You may recall that David himself refused to do this on another occasion (2 Sam 24:24). In this case, David takes the low road. He refuses to pay Uriah to divorce his wife; instead, he arranges for Uriah to be killed. We know the story, but the narrator wants us to notice that more than Uriah (or other mercenaries) died as a result of David’s decision: “some of the men in David’s army fell” (2 Sam 11:17).
Nonetheless, the text gives no indication that David felt any inner remorse. We misread when we think David had a guilty conscience. David’s honor is restored; Bathsheba moves in so the baby is David’s. Bathsheba probably got what she wanted. Only Uriah suffered, and David likely considered it Uriah’s fault. Uriah had failed to play along. He had shamed David and David retaliated. Probably in David’s mind, he had made Uriah a fair offer. C’est la vie, we might say. David summarized the episode this way in a message sent to Joab: “Don’t let this upset you; the sword devours one as well as another” (2 Sam 11:25).
We want you to see that the honor/shame aspect of David’s culture determined his conduct. At every step, he did what was typical for a Mediterranean king at the time in a situation like this. And according to the honor/shame system of David’s day, the matter was resolved. It is likely that David never gave it another thought. He was not likely tortured by a guilty conscience. There was no further recourse. All parties were satisfied or silenced.
Everyone is satisfied except the Lord. Note how the narrator words it: “After the time of mourning was over, David had her [Bathsheba] brought to his house, and she became his wife and bore him a son. But the thing David had done displeased the Lord” (2 Sam 11:27, emphasis added).
Although David had acted appropriately according to the broader cultural standards of his day, God held him to higher moral standards. Even so, God worked through the honor/shame system to bring David to repentance. The culture of David’s day didn’t have a way to bring up the matter. We Westerners might assume that God’s Spirit would eventually convict David’s inner heart, like Poe’s tell-tale heart. That’s because Westerners are introspective. We respond to internal pressure. But David doesn’t appear to be experiencing any inner pressure. No matter; God is not stymied by culture. God had introduced another element into ancient Near Eastern culture: a prophet. Instead of a voice whispering to his heart, a prophet shouted at his face. Either way, God speaks. Since David’s culture used shame to bring about conformity, God used shame to bring David to repentance. “Then Nathan said to David, ‘You are the man!’” (2 Sam 12:7).
The moving story of David’s subsequent repentance has stirred the hearts of believers for thousands of years. We have David’s words of repentance:
For I know my transgressions, and my sin is always before me.
Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight;
so you are right in your verdict and justified when you judge.
Surely I was sinful at birth. (Ps 51:3-5)
Actually, David’s words of repentance might trouble you a bit. First, David says he sinned only against God. Well, it seems to us David sinned against Bathsheba, Uriah, Joab and certainly the Israelite soldiers who were killed just because they were nearby. In fact, it seems there are plenty of people against whom David has sinned. Second, David confesses his sin as “from birth.” We were thinking more like one moonlit night on a palace stroll. In David’s day, kings had the right to do the things David did. Kings (and governments today) take property from citizens. They send soldiers to war, where some die. David was within his cultural rights. He broke no laws. Well, he did break one: “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife” (Ex 20:17 kjv). David had transgressed God’s laws, not his country’s. Thus, when he says, “against you, you only, have I sinned,” David is admitting that he is accountable not only to the expectations for a king but that he is also accountable to God.
This story illustrates three things powerfully. First, what goes without being said about sin and how God deals with it can lead us to miss important factors in the biblical text. If we assume David thought like a Westerner with an introspective conscience, we’re likely to miss the point altogether. Second, God does not consider the matter closed just because David and the rest of the Israelites might. While culture determines how we understand the consequences of sin, God’s will and commands are universal. It doesn’t matter if our culture says it’s okay if God says it isn’t. Third, this story makes it quite clear that God is capable of working through all cultural systems and expectations to bring sinners to repentance. Perhaps God has used your conscience to bring you to repentance in the past. We’re not belittling that experience. (It was and is our experience too.) Likewise, though, the power of the honor/shame system should not be underestimated. It is at least as powerful, and some would argue more powerful, than our Western worldview of guilt.[18] So does God work through shame-based or guilt-based methods? We think the answer is both.
God worked through the honor/shame system, but we would err if we implied this was merely a system. God himself is concerned about honor/shame even if we Westerners are not. Throughout the Old Testament, God is concerned about the glory/honor of his name. The psalmists talk about this a lot: “You who fear the Lord, praise him! All you descendants of Jacob, honor him! Revere him, all you descendants of Israel!” (Ps 22:23, emphasis added); “Call on me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you will honor me” (Ps 50:15, emphasis added).
God is also willing to honor those worthy of it.
“For the Lord God is a sun and shield; the Lord bestows favor and honor; no good thing does he withhold from those whose walk is blameless” (Ps 84:11, emphasis added). “He will call on me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him” (Ps 91:15, emphasis added).
It is also interesting that Bible characters often appeal to God’s honor to get him to act on their behalf. When the Israelites make the golden calf, God is angry. “‘I have seen these people,’ the Lord said to Moses, ‘and they are a stiff-necked people. Now leave me alone so that my anger may burn against them and that I may destroy them. Then I will make you into a great nation’” (Ex 32:9-10).
Moses makes a two-pronged argument to persuade God to change his mind: (1) think about what the Egyptians will say about your name; and (2) you swore on your name and you don’t want to get a bad name! Moses doesn’t appeal to God’s sense of justice (“it wouldn’t be right”) but to his sense of honor (“you will be shamed”): “Why should the Egyptians say, ‘It was with evil intent that he brought them out, to kill them in the mountains and to wipe them off the face of the earth’? Turn from your fierce anger; relent and do not bring disaster on your people. Remember your servants Abraham, Isaac and Israel, to whom you swore by your own self” (Ex 32:12-13).
Honor and Shame in the New Testament
In the same way that God used shame, through Nathan, to bring David to repentance, so also New Testament writers employed honor/shame cultural assumptions to compel Christians to good works. Although Plato predates the New Testament, his influence had not yet shaped Palestinian culture. It was still an honor/shame society.
During what we commonly refer to as the “white throne judgment,” all the misdeeds from our past will be displayed for all to see: “For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each of us may receive what is due us for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad” (2 Cor 5:10).
For us, this is a bummer, but it’s not devastating. I’ve always imagined this as watching a film reel of my foibles (some of them worse than others). Then when that uncomfortable formality concludes, it’s off to heaven for eternity for me. Not so bad, in the grand scheme of things. For Paul’s first-century hearers, though, this news would have brought them to their knees. This judgment is described as a public honor/shame event. (God has the time to judge us all privately and individually, if he so intended.) Paul is applying a shame motivation to get the Corinthians to live worthily of the grace-gift God has given them. The very next line Paul writes is, “Since, then, we know what it is to fear the Lord” (2 Cor 5:11). What is it we are fearing? That the Lord will expose all our sins to the entire community of faith. He is warning them that although they might not currently feel guilty about their sin, there will come a day when they will be publicly shamed for their misdeeds before God and everybody. Paul is trying to “scare them straight.”
During his earthly ministry, Jesus worked within the honor/shame system. In the ancient world, there was only so much honor to go around—it was a limited good. Everyone was scrambling for more. Jesus’ opponents understood this well. Public questions were never for information. If one wanted information, you asked privately, as we often see Jesus’ disciples do (Mt 24:3; Mk 9:28). Likewise, Nicodemus came at night because he didn’t want his question misunderstood. He was looking for answers from Jesus, not honor. But public questions were contests. The winner was determined by the audience, who represented the community. If you silenced your opponent, you gained honor and they lost some. Even though scholars often refer to this as the “honor game,” don’t underestimate its seriousness. As we mentioned above, this is why the Jewish officials killed Jesus. They had been challenging Jesus publicly (Mt 12:1-7, for example), and every time they “lost,” they lost honor. They were tired of it, and they wanted their honor back. In one of these “honor games” with Jesus, the Jewish leaders asked him, “Is it right to pay the imperial tax to Caesar or not?” (Mt 22:17). We often fail to notice the two most important parts of the story, even though Matthew highlighted them.
First, Jesus’ conflict with the Jewish leadership begins in the previous chapter: “Jesus entered the temple courts, and, while he was teaching, the chief priests and the elders of the people came to him” (Mt 21:23). The questions are posed in the most important public place in all of Israel. There couldn’t be any higher stakes in the honor game.
The second point Matthew makes is at the end of the conflict story: “No one could say a word in reply, and from that day on no one dared to ask him any more questions” (Mt 22:46).
Jesus won. The leaders then decide to kill Jesus. Honor is at stake here. They cannot just go down to the assassin’s booth at the market. Sticking a knife in Jesus in some Jerusalem alley would make him a martyr. They need to publicly disgrace Jesus in order to get their honor back. They need him executed as a criminal. This honor stuff is pretty serious. Some Middle Easterners still kill over honor.[19]
It is within this context that we must understand the fact that Jesus encouraged his disciples to be humble: “When someone invites you to a wedding feast, do not take the place of honor” (Lk 14:8). If you are not humble, you could suffer a terrible fate: “for a person more distinguished than you may have been invited. If so, the host who invited both of you will come and say to you, ‘Give this person your seat.’ Then, humiliated, you will have to take the least important place” (Lk 14:8-9). Our English versions don’t translate this well. This final sentence is better translated as, “you will go with shame to the least important seat.” Even so, for most of us, it is merely the fate of having a lousy seat for dinner. For Easterners, you would be shamed in front of everyone. In Jesus’ day, the loss of honor affected all areas of life. Arranged marriages might need to be reshuffled: perhaps your son isn’t worthy of his daughter after all. The bakers’ guild might kick you out, even though your family has been members for generations.
Why does this matter for reading the Bible? If we misunderstand what’s happening in the story, we might wonder why a story is included in Scripture at all. What is the possible application, for example, of a story that simply records the bad behavior of its characters? In stories of right/wrong, we can identify the bad guys and the bad actions. Sometimes in Scripture it is harder. We sometimes see “sin” where the narrator did not intend it—or worse, we don’t see “sin” when the narrator was waving it in front of our faces. In the outrageous story in Judges 19 of the Levite and his concubine, we likely misread many parts. We see “sin” in several parts of the story: unfaithful concubine (v. 2), sexual assault (v. 22), rape (v. 25), cruelty (v. 28) and desecration of the dead (v. 29). We wouldn’t want to dispute any of these sins, but we likely missed some the narrator considered more important. The man repeatedly shamed the woman’s family by taking her from her parents but never giving her a full marriage (vv. 1-3) and later insulted her father’s hospitality (v. 10). Also, what the man had feared would happen in Jebus, a non-Israelite town (v. 12), actually happened in an Israelite town. Israelites were not being their brother’s keeper; they were no longer considering each other to be family (vv. 15, 22). They were not looking out for each other. When the story concludes (v. 30), everyone who saw it was saying to one another, “Such a thing has never been seen or done, not since the day the Israelites came up out of Egypt. Just imagine! We must do something! So speak up!” (Judg 19:30). We today assume they are outraged over the chopped-up body. If so, it’s hard to imagine the purpose of including the story in the Bible. Just for shock value? Surely not. It is more likely that bystanders are expressing outrage over the fragmented state of Israel. If they won’t stand together and defend each other, they will end up as chopped apart as that poor woman. With the tribe behaving shamefully, the people’s hope and the promise of God seem to be unraveling. The story is included to illustrate how bad things have become among God’s people, to show the dire need of the people’s return and the Lord’s intervention.
Non-Western honor systems and Western guilt systems are both used to encourage appropriate behavior and to discourage inappropriate behavior. Because the Bible was written by Middle Eastern authors in cultures that traded in the currency of honor and shame, we need to be sensitive to the language of honor and shame in Scripture if we hope to learn how to live faithfully as Christians. As we saw above, Paul used shame to discourage bad behavior. But he also used honor/shame language positively. In Ephesians 4:1, the apostle calls his listeners to “live a life worthy of the calling you have received” (see also 2 Thess 1:11). The word worthy should alert us that honor/shame language is being used. In the verses that follow, Paul mentions specific behaviors that fall in this category. But his point is to identify righteousness as conformity to the expectations of God’s community. The thought that should guide our conduct is that we are representatives of both Christ and the community that bears his name. As such, we must be careful to live in such a way that brings honor, and not shame, on Christ’s name and his family.
Misreading Scripture with Western Eyes Page 13
