It’s time to look at the story of David and Bat Sheva. I assume everyone knows the story, or at least enough to have strong opinions about it. We’ll see how our preconceptions work with the text itself.
I make no claim to greatness, but my approach to bat Sheva comes from an integration of my understanding of Rabbis Moshe Eisemann (Artscroll Divrei Hayamim I, A Pearl in the Sand and Music Made in Heaven), David Fohrman (The David and Batsheva Episode) and Yaakov Medan (אמר נבל בלבו אין אלקים and מגילת בת-שבע). Any errors or heresies are of course mine. It’s a way of reading the story not as a love story but a story of power, failure and redemption, that goes from the delegation to Amon in פרק י to the end of Avshalom’s rebellion in פרק יט. It is a ספר נבואה, the story of what it means to be a מלך ישראל.
Part of the problem I have is that the story is pretty R-rated. I’m a pediatrician and I have to be very explicit in talking about these sorts of things with teenagers, but I’m uncomfortable using explicit language in the בית מדרש. So I will stick with לשון נקייה, and assume everyone knows what I mean by “conjugal relations”. חז״ל, however, have no such compunctions, and I may have to use euphemisms in translating.
It is impossible to read the story of Bat Sheva as careful readers without keeping in mind its literary antecedents throughout תנ״ך. More than that, I would assume that David himself was aware of these stories as well, and they influenced how he thought about Bat Sheva. The antecedents we will look at are the stories of David’s literal ancestors, יהודה and תמר, of בעז and רות, and of דוד himself and אבגיל. Rav Medan would add the story of בנות לוט as well, but think that will take us too far afield.
Yehudah’s story starts right after the sale of Yosef:
Tamar has twin sons, פֶרֶץ and זָרַח, from Yehudah and it is unclear if they remain married or not:
Ruth meets Boaz (who is Naomi’s husband’s nephew) when she is gleaning in his fields, but Naomi tells her to go back to him that night:
It’s clear that nothing untoward happened between them that night, but it certainly could have:
David meets Avigail while he is on the run from Saul, when he is the leader of a band of vigilantes in מדבר יהודה:
We dealt with Avigail in great detail back then. To summarize, it certainly seems as though she is flirting with David here, and he rushes to take her as soon as her husband is dead. חז״ל saw something sordid in their interaction as well:
The Midrash says there was a physical attraction between them from the start:
As the midrash says, אמרה ליה סופך להכשל באשה אחרת. The story of Avigail and David, even at the level of פשט, is foreshadowing the story of Bat Sheva and David. חז״ל understand that Avigail was in fact a נביא, and her message to David was to beware of this exact situation. It seems that throughout תנ״ך there are these stories of apparent impropriety in the predecessors of David. Why?
Pace Rabbi Eisemann, I don’t like this answer. It smacks too much of Sabbateanism:
So, what else to these stories have in common? In each, there is a childless widow who actively pursues her man. The gemara says:
Rabbi Shulman argues that in each of these stories the marriage is a form of חסד for a woman who could not otherwise be supported in the society of תנ״ך. This is certainly true for Tamar and Ruth. But Avigail is a rich, beautiful widow. She would surely have no problem finding a husband if she so desired. When David takes her, it is not a חסד to her. I would argue that each of these stories are a form of יבום which is a חסד is to their late husbands.
In the case of Yehuda, it is explicitly called יבום. In the case of Boaz, it is clear from the גאולה of Naomi’s field that the goal was להקים שם המת:
The gemara (בבא מציעא מז,א) explains that לפנים בישראל…לקים כל דבר wasn’t specifically a shoe; that was chosen here to evoke the ceremony of חליצה.
And in fact, the child, עובד, fills the role of יקום על שם אחיו המת:
And in the case of David an Avigail, they also have a son. That son is named כלאב, which evokes נבל's description as והוא כלבי, ”he was a descendant of Caleb“:
And what that means is that כלאב, of all the sons of David mentioned above, is never involved in the struggle for succession. He doesn’t have the status of a royal prince; his legacy is that of נבל הכרמלי.
What does it mean, והיה הבכור אשר תלד יקום על שם אחיו? There is a halachic יבום, which applies only to the brother of dead, but there’s clearly something deeper underlying that. Even before the Torah was given, it says וידע אונן כי לא לו יהיה הזרע. There’s one other place where the Torah uses the expression על שם אחיהם: in Yaakov’s blessing to Yosef’s sons:
In strictly judicial terms, the child represents the financial legacy of the dead brother.
But there is a spiritual legacy implied as well:
I don’t know anything about the סוד גדול that the Ramban mentions, but יבום means that the מיבם must effectively raise someone else’s child. The בכור is seen as the child of the אחיו המת, and that is an act of supreme חסד. I would argue that the ancestors of מלכות ישראל needed to be able to express that חסד, to be able to give up a claim on one’s own child.
The reason is that the מלכות is inherited; a peaceful, lawful succession requires a dynasty (they hadn’t yet invented elections):
But the fact that this authority is inherited does not mean it belongs to the king, the way personal property does. The successor inherits power that is granted by ה׳ to the עם as a whole: שום תשים עליך מלך.
And that is the message that ה׳ sends to David:
David almost gets the message; he does marry Bat Sheva, who is a childless widow, and it is her son who becomes the crown prince. But he gets it profoundly wrong.