added, “It is also much more peaceful around here than it was in the days of Saul, and I want all of you to know that when David removed Joab from this property and gave it to Sheva and Sarah, Khety and I felt so much safer at our place.”
“I’m sure you did,” said mother. “I hope we never see Joab again.”
Khety said, “I am changing the subject, but I understand that tomorrow we are having a wedding. In Beth-shan a few years ago, we were learned that the name Sharmila means ‘alabaster.’ Today I remembered that in Egyptian we have two words that are important for this occasion. They are similar words with separate meanings, but they are related to this event. Note the following:
Egyptian Šs (Shes) = alabaster = Sharmila
Egyptian Sš (Sesh) = scribe = Naam and Sharmila
I think these two belong together, and tomorrow will be their day.”
Everyone gave us a big cheer. I said to the group, “Sharmila and I understand that our marriage started with her trip or procession from Beth-shan to Jerusalem. For that reason the procession tomorrow will be very short, like just across the road. And since Khety has changed the subject to our wedding and alabaster, I want to read a short poem:
Sharmila, the stone of preference,
Sculptors delight in this fine white stone.
Of fine alabaster, she is a work of art.
My Sharmila is real;
She is beautiful.
The sculptors can come close,
But there is that ever-present gap
Between the person and the image,
Between the reality and the appearance.
This is true for art and for our lives.
In our lives we will attempt to narrow
The gap between our hopes and ideas
And the persons who appear before you;
We mean to be truthful.
Sharmila got up and ran to me; she gave me a short thank-you kiss. Samuel said, “Not fair! Save the kissing for after she crosses the road.”
Everyone laughed, and the good times continued. Rachel, Samuel, Sharmila, and I went for a walk on the road. We walked north toward Gibeah, and we had a wonderful time just being together.
Later mother told me that after we left the conversation changed in tone. My father warned the others about a shift in David’s view of his kingship.
Father said, “Tamar, David helped you, and he has helped most of us who are sitting around this table. He has also made some bad decisions for us. Nevertheless, David has a kind heart, and he loves his children more than most fathers. But I am worried about his present view of his kingship. I don’t worry that it will change him at this stage of his rule, but it could change the way in which his successor views the kingship.”
“Have you talked to him recently?” asked Sheva.
“Yes, but we did not discuss his views on his position as king. However, he did give me a poem, which he referred to as his Last Words. These may not be his last words, but I have a copy of it. I hesitate to change the mood of our party, but I want read it for you:
The oracle of David son of Jesse,
The oracle of the hero, who was exalted,
The anointed of the God of Jacob,
The singer of the heroic songs of Israel,
The spirit of Yahweh has spoken through me;
His words are on my tongue.
The God of Israel has spoken;
The Rock of Israel has said to me:
“He who rules humans righteously,
He who rules with the fear of God
Is like the light of morning at sunrise,
[Like] a morning without clouds,
[Or like] brightness after a rain [sprouting] grass from the earth.
Is not my house right with God?
For he has made an eternal covenant with me.
It is arranged in all matters, and it is guarded.
Will he not make possible my every deliverance
And my every delight?
But the wicked with thorns are swept away, all of them,
For they cannot be picked up by hand;
Whoever touches them must be armed with iron
And the shaft of a spear.
And in the fire they are completely burned in place.
(2 Samuel 23:1–7)
I must say that this poem worries me.”
“It worries me as well,” said Sheva, “but Jonathan, please explain for us your worries.”
“I will be the historian at this point for those of you who were not with us for David’s first and second coronations. After reading David’s Last Words, I re-read Keziah’s accounts of these coronations in The Jerusalem Academy. For the first coronation, David wrote a psalm that most of us thought was not good. For the second coronation, David wrote a much better psalm (Psalm 2). We were all interested in the fact that he was anointed as our king in Hebron, and yet in the psalm he said, ‘But I, yes I, have been anointed his king, / On Zion, his holy mountain. / Let me recite the decree of Yahweh. / He said to me, “You are my son . . .”’ Zion was our clue that we would be moving to Jerusalem and Mt. Zion. We did not think much about the fact that he claimed to be God’s son. After all, most of the heroes of old claimed to be part divine. In the covenant with the House of Saul that Sheva wrote for the second coronation, he mentioned again the decree and that David was God’s son, but he also spoke of the decree as being a conditional covenant by adding: ‘If your sons keep my covenant and my stipulations, they will sit upon your throne.’ This was also stated in great detail in Ahban’s psalm (Psalm 132), which was used when David brought the Ark of Yahweh to Jerusalem. Enough history. In David’s Last Words, he does not speak of a conditional covenant but rather an eternal covenant. Now we know that eternal covenants are not always eternal. In fact, Joab was given this land where we are now sitting in a royal land grant forever and forever. But that means nothing if Joab turns out to be a person of questionable behavior. Nevertheless, in David’s Last Words, the eternal covenant will be interpreted by his successors to be eternal regardless of their behavior.
“I have other complaints. David designates his words as an oracle. It seems to me that he has not only taken over the role of the prophet in that he claims that God speaks through him, but unlike the
