Sermons for the Month

The Perfect Woman/Man (Part One)
DATE: July 30, 2000
SERVICE: Pentecost VII
TEXT: 2 Samuel 11:1-15

“To all of you Saints here this morning, grace and peace to you from God our Father, from His Son, Jesus Christ and His Holy Spirit. AMEN

It's racy. It's titillating. It's, frankly, more than we wanted to know. It's Sex and the City, - the wildly popular HBO creation and recent winner of several Emmy nominations chronicling the sexual misadventures of fictional newspaper columnist Carrie Bradshaw - played by Sarah Jessica Parker - and her pals. Carrie hangs out with a three attractive but lonely, thirty something women looking for satisfaction, women who explore their sexuality in the fast lane of New York City.

Although Sex and the City won this year's Golden Globe Award for best musical or comedy television series, most of us would probably find it neither musical nor comedic. Some would say, "It's dirty. It's sinful."

In the course of its schedule Carrie and her friends wrestle with such earthy issues as spontaneous intimacy with their doormen, their realtors and their personal trainers, as well as their zany but chic escapades in the world of breakups, boy toys and Viagra. This is not a show for the family.

And yet, for all the casual encounters and wild forays into "liberation," a glimpse of tradition peeks through from time to time. In the 2-year-old history of the program, at least one episode has dealt with a subject familiar to all - whether you live in New York City or Akron, in the 21st century or in the 10th century B.C. In fact, even the Bible includes an episode or two about this timeless topic.

The Ten Commandments call it Number Seven. Sex and the City covered it in Episode Six - "The Cheating Curve" - asking the burning question, "Is sexual cheating like the proverbial tree in the forest? Does it exist if there's no one to catch you?" After all, presidents do it. Business moguls do it. Even Christians do it.

Second Samuel includes its own Episode Six of Sex and the City. The city is Jerusalem. The cheater is David. But there the similarities end. Carrie prowls while David prays. Carrie's sexual adventures are a lifestyle choice; David's sexual misadventure is a once-in-a-lifetime disaster. Carrie's guilt-free; David's guilt-laden. Carrie brags; David begs. Sex and the City attempts to link sexual promiscuity with social responsibility; 2 Samuel links sexual infidelity with truth and consequences.

Let's revisit the details: It was springtime in Jerusalem, the season of birds and bees and afternoon strolls on the roof for a dose of cool breezes. It was also "the time when kings go out to battle."

But not all kings. The king of Israel sent Joab and the troops out to battle while he lounged about high atop the palace, which afforded him a spectacular view of the Holy City below.

How far David had come! Once a humble shepherd boy not even admired by his own brothers, he had become, by God's grace, Jerusalem's own "Mr. Big" - the king of Israel.

Battles could be commanded from the comfort of his palace! Fresh air naps could be enjoyed from the rooftop! And the view upon awaking was, shall we say, breathtaking - especially when the panoramic vista included the sight of a gorgeous and quite naked woman taking a bath. Ah, the perks of power!

All David had to do to meet this lovely creature was to summon her via his royal messengers and she would have no choice but to appear promptly - a situation which sounds queasily similar to reports of a postmodern politician we all know.

Bathsheba was the name of the fetching woman who caught David's eye. Sex and the City was the reason she was fetched. And we quickly learn that it was not safe Sex and the City either. Bathsheba, who happened to be married to a Hittite mercenary named Uriah, conceived a child that day. And if that's not enough, we learn another rather personal detail not often uttered in polite conversation, much less from the pulpit.

The reason why the tantalizing Bathsheba was spotted naked in the first place was because she was immersed in her monthly purification bath. Since Uriah was off at war and she ventured directly from her bath to David's bedroom, Uriah could not possibly be the father of her baby. And you thought only HBO required parental discretion!

The point is that while Uriah was serving in King David's elite corps of the Thirty (see 2 Samuel 23:24-39), King David was serving his own elitist desires. What we have here is not Sex and the City, the award winning comedy - but Sex and the City, the sordid tragedy.

The noble Uriah makes a particularly tragic figure. Even his name - it means "Yahweh is my light" - screams dramatic irony.

Thinking hindsight for the first time, David yanked Uriah out of the corps, hoping to keep his indiscretion from getting out of control. He commanded Uriah to go home, take a load off, spend a little time with Bathsheba ... wink, wink. The comment to go home and "wash your feet" euphemistically referred to what HBO would undoubtedly spell out in explicit and colorful four-letter words. David was surely not suggesting a pedicure.

But Uriah belonged to the John McCain school of war: As long as his fellow soldiers were out in the field, he would himself abstain from the pleasures of civilian life, including relations with The Missus. Even when David loosened him up with fine food and strong drink, Uriah abstained. The guy was too good to be true.

So David opted for Plan B. He sent Uriah to the front lines, commanded the troops to back off and set up Uriah for inevitable slaughter during the siege of Rabbah. No more Uriah. No more adultery. No more problems, right?

"Don't worry about Uriah!" David would reassure his messengers from the front. After all, David wasn't troubled about it; why should Joab lose any sleep?

Look at David. Chosen by God, blessed with looks and talent and charm. He knew himself to be a man of faith. And yet this favored one was not immune to the temptations of real life. Can we blame it on the city?

After all, in ancient times as well as in these times, as evidenced by our own scandal here in Fairlawn, the city has had the reputation for luring otherwise wholesome souls into a life of raw corruption and manifold sin. Sex in the ancient world was inevitably paired up with the City as surely as Carrie and her postmodern friends are paired up with the cute guys at the end of the bar in any given episode.

But it's not merely an urban thing. It's a human thing.

And our human sin yields painful consequences no matter where it occurs. The Bible knows it and speaks of it. We know it, too, if we rerun in our minds the more twisted episodes of our own lives. One sin leads to another sin and another and another.

Adultery is sin. A sin against God, a sin against the person with whom we live in a covenant relationship, a sin against the person with whom we are cheating and a sin against ourselves. That is usually what Sex in the City and other similar TV shows leave out. Adultery has its consequences.

One would think that this message is not one we would need to explain to an audience of God-fearing, faith-filled followers of Christ. But in this age of Ally McBeal, The Man Show and Third Rock from the Sun, in a sex-in-the-city culture which tends to wink at sexual infidelity, even Christians can begin to believe that covenantal unfaithfulness is no big deal.

Well, my friends. It is a big deal. It’s a big deal to God, to the spouse, to the one victimized. And it has its consequences. And that's all I'm going to say for now!

AMEN

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