In Lake Wobegon Days Garrison Keillor tells the story of Bernie Tollefson who went to church one night on a dare from his chums.  Bernie sat in the back and smirked at the Rev Osterhus until the evangelist could stand it no longer.  He leaped from the pulpit, dashed to the back pew and seized Bernie before he could slither away.  Then he hauled him out by his collar into the aisle and up to the altar and he threw him against the rail.  The sinner fell weeping to the floor, while the man of God knelt over him, with one knee in the small of his back and prayed ferociously for light to dawn in his blackened soul.  When Bernie stood up he was reborn and yelled, “Thank you, Jesus” over and over, tears pouring down his cheeks.  It was then that Bernie’s brother, a deacon of the church, called out “Now there’s what I call preaching”.

Well, I suppose, if that’s the definition of preaching I’m not going to preach today.  But don’t push your luck.  Don’t let me catch any of you smirking.   Instead I’ll share a few thoughts in good Episcopalian fashion.  Thankfully, the preacher doesn’t have to scream and shout and physically rough up people in order for the Holy Spirit to touch a person’s heart.  The prophet Nathan is proof of that.  Last week we read about King David’s catalogue of sin in 2 Samuel 11 when he notices a woman named Bathsheba bathing while he is strolling around the palace rooftop.  He objectifies Bathsheba (as if she were some thing for his pleasure), he sends for her, sleeps with her, and then he tries to cover it up with deceit and manipulation, culminating in arranging for Bathsheba’s husband, Uriah, to die in the frontline of battle.  And then there’s his overriding sin of arrogance. His appalling misuse of power.  Now this morning’s reading continues from where last week’s left off.  With Uriah’s death in battle Bathsheba is now a widow.  And so David, being the moral and upright gentleman that he is, takes pity of the poor woman and brings her into the palace and marries her.  Isn’t that jolly decent of him?   But the final words of chapter 11 are ominous and form the hinge on which this story swings: “But the thing that David had done displeased the Lord.”

So God speaks to the prophet Nathan, and reveals to him what David has done.  And then he sends him to call David to account for his actions.  David, of course, probably thought he had gotten away with it.  He was king, after all.  He was not accountable to anyone.  He didn’t have to answer to a congress or parliament or to the people. 

Now, Nathan takes a slightly more subtle approach than Rev Osterhus, but nonetheless he delivers his message with devastating clarity and with maximum effectiveness.  He tells David a story.  There’s a rich and powerful man who owns hundreds of sheep; and he has a poor neighbour who has just one small ewe.  But this poor man loves his sheep and cares for her and treats like a friend.  Now the rich man had a guest arrive unexpectedly and instead of taking one of his own sheep from his huge flock to eat with his guest, he forcibly takes his poor neighbour’s ewe to feast on with his visitor.  And David really gets into this parable he gets angry with the rich man, and he blurts out “As surely as the Lord lives, the man who did this deserves to die.  He must pay for that lamb four times over!”  And then Nathan calmly delivers the four words that bring David’s world crashing about his ears. “You are the man.”  And David was faced with the horror that he was not above God.  God had seen his wrongs and was holding him to account for the all he had done to Uriah, Bathsheba, and countless other people in Israel.  Nathan continues, “Why have you despised the Word of the Lord, to do evil in his sight?” 

And God’s judgment, spoken through Nathan, had the desired effect.  David was crushed.  His only phrase is “I have sinned against the Lord”.  And here lies the key to David’s redemption and perhaps the secret to his entire life.  He makes no excuses for his behaviour.  He doesn’t minimize what he has done, he doesn’t blame anyone else.  He doesn’t say, “OK, Lord, so I messed up, but it wasn’t that bad.  Anyone else in my position would have done the same thing.  You can’t really blame me; I mean she was probably trying to tempt me – you know lure the king into a scandal and then blackmail me for money.  And as for Uriah, well he was just another casualty of war.  You know, people die in battle.  And anyway, it is probably best that he is out of the way.  I mean I’m really rich I can provide for Bathsheba and the child much better than Uriah could have.  That baby will want for nothing.”  No.  He doesn’t do any of that self-justification stuff.  Just a sincere, heartfelt confession of his guilt. 

In Psalm 51 that we read, David goes into it in more detail.  There we get a painful picture of the devastation of a man whose sins have found him out: “Have mercy on me, O God, wash away my iniquity, I know my transgressions, my sin is ever before me, against you have I sinned and done evil in your sight, hide your face from my sin and blot out my iniquity, do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me, let the bones you have crushed rejoice.”

Now there are three vital lessons we can learn from this passage and its aftermath.  The first is that choices have consequences.  David’s actions caused many people to suffer.  Including David himself.  God, of course, forgave David, as the rest of 2 Samuel makes clear, but what David had done could not just be wiped away as if it had never happened.  Uriah was still dead, David had still destroyed people’s trust, Bathsheba was still pregnant.  None of these things changed.  In fact, the consequences were more serious than that.  God says through Nathan, “Because you had Uriah killed in battle your own wars will never end; and because you destroyed a family your own family will be constantly torn apart; and because you took another man’s wife your wives will be taken by another man; and because Uriah was struck down, so too will the child you conceived be struck down.”

I’ve heard many people criticize the Christian idea of God’s forgiveness.  People parody God’s forgiveness as “do whatever you like, just say sorry to God or confess to a priest and then everything will be fine and you can go back to doing whatever you want”.  But that is not the Christian view of God’s forgiveness.  Yes, God forgives completely, utterly, eternally and freely.  God does not demand punishments, he doesn’t insist that we suffer to make up for our sins and then he’ll forgive us.  No, his forgiveness is without condition and without limits.  But, there are still consequences in this world.  The thief forgiven by God still needs to make restitution to his victim.  The violent person still has to go to prison.  The cheat, the liar, the gossip, these people still have to live with the consequences of their actions – broken trust, spoiled relationships, a lost job, inner turmoil.  God doesn’t magic away the consequences of our actions.  And neither would we want him to.  If God did declare that our actions have no consequences he would be telling us that what we do is of no importance, that any behaviour – good or bad, right or wrong, loving or spiteful - is just as good as any other.  It would mean that our acts of goodness and love had no value or meaning.  But no.  We live in a universe where there are laws of nature.  And one of those is that what we do matters.  Our actions can cause great blessing and joy, and they can bring pain and sorrow. 

The second thing we learn from this event is that David could only receive God’s forgiveness and be restored when he was honest and humble.  It’s not that God didn’t forgive him until he changed his attitude.  God forgives everyone despite their attitudes.  No, the point is that David could not receive God’s forgiveness until he had acknowledged his guilt.  It stands to reason, doesn’t it, you can’t receive forgiveness until you admit that you need it.  God holds out his forgiveness to everyone, and then waits for each of us to come to our senses and confess that we need his forgiveness.  And, of course, repentance is not just a quick ‘sorry’ to God, but a clear and decisive moment when we take responsibility for what we’ve done.  Then we express to God our regret, and then we go forward intending to lead to a life free from repeating those wrongs.  Saying sorry without the intention of changing is not true repentance.  God is not fooled by the person who fakes a confession but plans to continue in the sins she has just confessed.  Let me be clear that repentance is not necessarily about deep sorrow.  Feeling great sadness can be part of true repentance, and when we’ve done something with especially damaging consequences, like David did, then deep sorrow is entirely appropriate – I think it is good that David felt pain when he realised what he had done.  The point is that true repentance is a decision to turn around, and not a feeling.  Repentance is not an emotion but a decision.  It’s making a u-turn.  That’s how we know if repentance is genuine – does it produce a new life? 

So does that mean that if we are truly penitent then we will not repeat the same error?  No, it doesn’t mean that.  In fact, it is likely that we may slip up again in the same area.  That does not make the repentance false, it just means that even though we had good intentions we’re sill sinners, and we each have areas of weakness in our lives.  So if we do slip up again and commit the same sin later we don’t forfeit that forgiveness.  Jesus said that we are to forgive other people 70 times 7, and if that is the level of forgiveness he expects from us then it would be pretty hypocritical of him if he were not to demonstrate it himself.  God doesn’t forgive ‘but only as long as we don’t do it again’.  He forgives even if we mess up in the same way, even the next day.  What matters is that we had that intention of living right, even if our minds and bodies are still weak.

And the third thing we learn from this event is that even though human beings can destroy things, God can mend them.  David messed up seriously badly but despite this the last word in this story is grace.  Yes there we terrible consequences to David’s sins, but let’s notice something good.  Can anyone name King Solomon’s mother?  Well it was Bathsheba.  After David had taken her into the palace and married her they had another child.  And that was the great and wise king Solomon.  So even though this relationship started so terribly wrong and several bad things happened to make it possible, God still wove it into his perfect plan. And that means that even though we do some awful things God has a plan and our sin does not destroy his plan for our lives.  Somehow in his love he takes our frailties and our failures and he uses them to bring about his will – to do us good, to bless us in the long run, to bless other people.  How can that be? Because God is love, and his plans will not be defeated by evil.  He will win out, and so will we.  The final word in human history is grace.  The final word in your life and mine is grace – the unconditional love and forgiveness that makes us right with God.  We needed this because we could not do it on our own.  God has done it through the death and resurrection of Christ.

A man dies and goes to heaven.  Of course, St. Peter meets him at the Pearly Gates.  St. Peter says, "Here's how it works.  You need 100 points to make it into heaven.  You tell me all the good things you've done, and I give you a certain number of points for each item, depending on how good it was.  When you reach 100 points, you get in."

"Okay," the man says, "I was married to the same woman for 50 years and never cheated on her, even in my heart."

"That's wonderful," says St. Peter, "that's worth three points!"

"Three points?" he says. "Well, I attended church all my life and supported its ministry with my tithe and service."

"Terrific!" says St. Peter. "That's certainly worth a point."

"One point!?!!"

"I started a soup kitchen in my city and worked in a shelter for homeless veterans."

"Fantastic, that's good for two more points," he says.

"Two points!?!!”Exasperated, the man cries.

"At this rate the only way I'll get into heaven is by the grace of God."

"Bingo, 100 points! Come on in!"