March 21, 2021 | Worship

This morning the sun shines brightly into my living room. Through my window I can see all of the flowers in my garden in bloom, happy and perky after the rainy on Friday. I delight in the reds and yellows, the purples, the lush greens. I give thanks to God for the varied beauty of God’s creation, the deep pinks and reds of geraniums, the cheery crepe-paper orange of Iceland Poppies. The sun casts it’s light through my window and even though I just vacuumed, it picks up on the ever present dog hair on the couch, it shows off the dust that I missed on the bookcase. These iniquities of my housekeeping cannot be hidden from the light.

This week light shone once again on our country. And while it highlights the beauty, the hills endless green curved mounds, dotted with purple lupine and yellow fiddlenecks, the light also is cast into the shadows of who we are bringing the ugly, the unspeakable out as well. As news came in and continues to develop about the killing of eight people in Georgia across three different massage parlors, we can see clearly the places where we have neglected to care for in the absence of light. Unlike the layer of dust gathering on my copy of Jane Eyre, these housekeeping iniquities are lethal. There are layers of white supremacy and misogyny that are revealed when something occurs like what took place this week. Though we have spent a good deal of time talking and fretting over the role racism plays in our society, laws, and systems, not to mention in our own day-to-day dealings, we can see our iniquities in the harsh light. The light thrown on anti-asian violence, illuminating the constructed hierarchies that serve as a foundation to make a white man feel that Asian women are disposable enough to murder in order to cure him of his own addiction, the glaring glow of the protective nature of a society enculturated and steeped in white supremacy which means that a man who murders multiple people, with a majority of those victims being Asian and women, is not immediately shot and killed by the police, or treated roughly—and I’m not complaining about that, but in the light of the way peoples of color are treated when being arrested, it provides plenty to feel downright sick about. Instead, people came to his defense, saying he was having a bad day. Allowing his self-admission of sex addiction to justify the murder of those who might tempt him. Dehumanizing and laying blame on the victims. As we learn more and more about this tragic event that took place, we see that the light is not so flattering, and we recognize that the work of cleaning our house of this kind of sin is far from finished. And if you’re listening to this, uncomfortable because, well, maybe those places are places that might cause a man to stumble over his sexual desires, I offer you this: God loves everyone, sexy people included. Jesus famously offered this advice, “But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman to lust after her has already committed adultery with her in his heart. If your right eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell.” (matthew 5:28-29). We are in charge of our own lust and desire. Not the person who has a rockin’ bod, not the woman wearing short shorts and a crop top, not the person who is doing their job, even if that person’s job makes you feel some sort of way. Our impulses, our attraction, our lust is ours to control and Jesus is clear that we are not to make it the other person’s problem. Unfortunately, a lot of what purity culture teaches us is that it is on the woman, on the person who is attractive or vulnerable or just doing their damn job to cover up, to keep “a brother from stumbling” and to bear the burden of guilt if they are assaulted or worse.

This morning we heard a reading from Psalm 51. In it, we have the oft-cited “Create in me a clean hear, O God, and put a new and right spirit in me.” And this, this sounds good, right? This is a super relatable prayer. We can often be filled with feelings of iniquity, or feel unworthy in God’s presence. But here’s the background of this psalm that doesn’t show up in the text itself, but rather in the superscription—this psalm was written in regards to the incident with David and Bathsheba. To refresh our memories because it may have been some time since this story has come up—and it often gets whitewashed because we don’t like to talk about sex in church—David observed Bathsheba and decided he wanted her. Inconveniently, she had a husband, Uriah the Hittite, a soldier who was loyal and faithful to his king. David, being King, had power that could not receive a No answer, and he, in biblical terms “ had relations” with Bathsheba. It is debated whether this could be considered rape. Looking at the power differential, it is safe to assume that even if consent was sought, it would have been impossible to say no to a powerful ruler. When it became apparent that Bathsheba was with child, David had Uriah the Hittite moved to the front lines and he was killed in the line of duty. Imagine the fake shocked look on David’s face as this happens. As we know, she became mother of King Solomon, and if we look at the lineage cited in the book of Matthew, she is an ancestor, her DNA passed down to him.

All of this has implications and impact on the events that we saw in our world this week. First, as we read Psalm 51, we read in it the desire to be made new by David, but we do not find anywhere within these verses an apology. While, without context, it may seem like a confessional psalm, we do not read deep remorse because of the lives his actions affected—including Uriah the Hittite’s death—murder?—David had been exposed for his act. He didn’t seek out the prophet Nathan to make things right when no one knew. This psalm was written as a result of Nathan coming to David after the public found out about what he had done. This is the panicked confession of wrongdoing of a man whose reputation was at stake. Those who were victim to his wrongdoing were not made part of his plea for a clean heart. All he was looking for was a clear conscience and more importantly to a man in power, a clean record among his people.

It is unsurprising that now, in 2021 we have a culture that does not respond to the people who have been wronged, but instead swallows whole the assumption that a man who had a bad day and was dealing with some pretty horrible stuff himself can kill people who a white supremacist and misogynist hierarchy deems less valuable, so his actions are justified. While this psalm acts as a prayer of confession, it also masks the offense and blots out the victims, stating that “Against you, you alone, have I sinned.” What about Bathsheba, what about Uriah the Hittite? What about the families of those who worked and were customers in those massage businesses? What about the shockwave of terror that spread across the country in a time when anti-asian violence is already heightened?

What we also see in the story of Bathsheba is that the role of women—even those who have been exploited, those who have been assaulted, those who have been coerced—is one that bears important fruit. Victims are not to bear the blame, even though David seems to have gotten away with this one. Bathsheba’s genes, her very dna became part of a bloodline that would one day course through the veins of our savior Jesus Christ. Christ would come and care for the victims, the assaulted, the marginalized with his ancestor Bathsheba’s blood in his own, and he would say things that would indict David, he would call men to take ownership of their own lust rather than cast the blame and burden on the beautiful woman that was there minding her own gorgeous business. Pluck your eye out if it causes you to sin. Pluck your eye out if you see a beautiful married woman, instead of sending her husband to his death. Pluck your eye out if you cannot control your lust, don’t make it someone else’s problem. Now, the pluck your eye out bit is really gory hyperbole, we have to make the leap ourselves to understand this to mean seek help, do your own work, get a therapist, go to Sexaholics Anonymous—there is no shame in seeking help and there are so many organizations in place to help with whatever it might be that might make us feel like we cannot control our impulses, whatever they may be. And when we’ve wronged and caused harm, yes, pray psalm 51, pray it earnestly. Pray it before anyone realizes what we’ve done, and pray it hand in hand with a sincere apology and plan of repentance to those who have been wrongs as well as God.

As we begin, piece by piece to deconstruct the ways in which we have unknowingly and knowingly upheld systems and societal norms that make events like David and Bathsheba or Robert Aaron Long and the three Spas he targeted possible. God is just, our iniquities are forgiven, but it is also our uncomfortable work to uphold our part of the covenant and see that this world is a just world for all. May God sustain in you a willing spirit as the light continues to reveal the iniquities around you, and may God restore to you the joy of your salvation as you work to dismantle the ways in which you see those sins perpetuated and propped up. Amen.