2 Samuel Chapter 12
Nathan Confronts David
A. Nathan’s Confrontation
(2 Samuel 12:1-4)
“And the LORD sent Nathan unto David. And he came unto him, and said unto him, There were two men in one city; the one rich, and the other poor. The rich man had exceeding many flocks and herds: but the poor man had nothing, save one little ewe lamb, which he had bought and nourished up: and it grew up together with him, and with his children; it did eat of his own meat, and drank of his own cup, and lay in his bosom, and was unto him as a daughter. And there came a traveller unto the rich man, and he spared to take of his own flock and of his own herd, to dress for the wayfaring man that was come unto him; but took the poor man's lamb, and dressed it for the man that was come to him.”
The LORD in His mercy sent Nathan to confront David. Though David had hidden his sin and hardened his heart, the Lord pursued him through the faithful voice of His prophet. When David ignored the conviction of the Holy Spirit and silenced his conscience, God still reached out through His servant. This act demonstrates divine mercy and patience, for the Lord could have abandoned David in his rebellion. Yet Scripture warns against presuming upon God’s long-suffering, for it is written, “And the LORD said, My spirit shall not always strive with man, for that he also is flesh” (Genesis 6:3). Conviction from the Holy Spirit is a gift, and when the heart resists that conviction repeatedly, the voice of God grows quieter. Therefore, believers must respond immediately when the Spirit reveals sin, lest they grow numb and seared in conscience.
Nathan approached David with wisdom and discernment, telling a parable rather than issuing direct accusation. “There were two men in one city; the one rich, and the other poor.” This parable was a mirror to David’s own soul. The imagery of a poor man’s cherished lamb, raised as part of his family and treated with deep affection, was carefully chosen. It was not uncommon in ancient Israel for a family to keep a lamb as a household pet, and Nathan’s story captured the emotion of such affection. The prophet spoke gently but truthfully, drawing David in without arousing his defenses. By speaking through narrative, Nathan allowed David to judge the situation for himself, setting the stage for self-condemnation before divine confrontation.
The sin described in the parable was theft. “He spared to take of his own flock and of his own herd… but took the poor man's lamb.” The rich man, representing David, took what was not his to take. In truth, David had stolen from Uriah, taking Bathsheba, who rightfully belonged to her husband. This principle reveals that adultery is a form of theft, a violation of the marital covenant established by God. Paul teaches, “Let the husband render unto the wife due benevolence: and likewise also the wife unto the husband. The wife hath not power of her own body, but the husband: and likewise also the husband hath not power of his own body” (1 Corinthians 7:3-4). David had no such right over Bathsheba, and in taking her, he committed both adultery and robbery in the eyes of God.
This principle extends beyond the physical act of adultery to all forms of sexual impurity. To lust after another is to covet and to steal in the heart. The law of Moses declares, “None of you shall approach to any that is near of kin to him, to uncover their nakedness: I am the LORD” (Leviticus 18:6). The phrase “uncover their nakedness” conveys the idea of taking what is not rightfully one’s own. Lust, pornography, and fornication all fall under this same sin of theft, taking what God has not given. The sin Nathan illustrated in the parable was not only moral failure but also an act of injustice — a violation against God, against Uriah, and against the sacred order of marriage.
(2 Samuel 12:5-6)
“And David’s anger was greatly kindled against the man; and he said to Nathan, As the LORD liveth, the man that hath done this thing shall surely die: And he shall restore the lamb fourfold, because he did this thing, and because he had no pity.”
David’s anger was immediately inflamed upon hearing Nathan’s story. Believing the parable to be a real account, he judged the rich man’s conduct as a heinous act deserving death. “David’s anger was greatly kindled against the man.” This response reveals a powerful truth about human nature: the same sin we are most guilty of is often the sin we condemn most fiercely in others. When our conscience is burdened by guilt, we tend to project that guilt outward, expressing moral outrage as a means to ease the internal conviction. Rather than confessing his own sin, David sought to purge his sense of guilt by harshly judging another. The Lord used this very impulse to expose David’s heart.
David pronounced, “As the LORD liveth, the man that hath done this thing shall surely die.” This was a solemn oath, invoking the name of God to affirm the justice of his own sentence. The irony is piercing: David, who had secretly committed far worse by orchestrating Uriah’s death and taking Bathsheba, now called upon God to witness the righteousness of his indignation. His hypocrisy underscores how sin blinds even the godly when it is left unconfessed. What David failed to see in Nathan’s story was himself. His sense of moral outrage was not wrong, but misdirected — he condemned in another what he refused to acknowledge in his own heart.
The severity of David’s reaction also reveals that his conscience was still alive, though dulled by sin. His instinct for justice remained intact. Yet his judgment went beyond the requirements of the Law, for theft of property, even of great cruelty, was not a capital crime. His declaration, “the man shall surely die,” demonstrates how the unrepentant sinner’s guilt distorts moral reasoning. The more unacknowledged sin festers within, the more extreme our judgments against others become. Before David could be forgiven, he first had to condemn his own sin with the same intensity that he condemned the sin in Nathan’s parable. True repentance begins when a person stops minimizing wrongdoing and declares it for what it is — an offense before a holy God.
David also declared, “And he shall restore the lamb fourfold.” Here, he referenced the principle of restitution from the Law. “If a man shall steal an ox, or a sheep, and kill it, or sell it; he shall restore five oxen for an ox, and four sheep for a sheep” (Exodus 22:1). David still knew the Scriptures well, and even in his backslidden condition, the Word of God was alive in his memory. Yet while he remembered the words, he had grown distant from their Author. Knowledge of Scripture without obedience leads only to hypocrisy. David’s declaration was correct in principle, but the deeper meaning was yet hidden from him — that he himself was the rich man who owed restitution for his grievous wrong.
Finally, Nathan noted the reason behind David’s judgment: “because he had no pity.” The rich man in the parable showed no compassion to the poor man who loved his lamb. In the same way, David showed no pity for Uriah, who was loyal and honorable, nor for Bathsheba’s family, who suffered the shame and pain of his actions. Compassion was replaced by selfish desire, and empathy was silenced by lust. Sin always hardens the heart, eroding compassion and replacing it with entitlement. David’s lack of pity toward Uriah mirrored the callousness of the rich man in Nathan’s story — a man who had everything but still took from one who had almost nothing.
(2 Samuel 12:7-9)
“And Nathan said to David, Thou art the man. Thus saith the LORD God of Israel, I anointed thee king over Israel, and I delivered thee out of the hand of Saul; And I gave thee thy master’s house, and thy master’s wives into thy bosom, and gave thee the house of Israel and of Judah; and if that had been too little, I would moreover have given unto thee such and such things. Wherefore hast thou despised the commandment of the LORD, to do evil in his sight? thou hast killed Uriah the Hittite with the sword, and hast taken his wife to be thy wife, and hast slain him with the sword of the children of Ammon.”
Nathan’s bold declaration, “Thou art the man,” pierced through David’s self-deception like a sword. In this moment, the veil of self-righteousness was torn away, and the full weight of guilt was laid bare. Nathan’s courage in confronting the king of Israel demonstrates the unflinching boldness of a true prophet of God. No flattery, no hesitation, only direct truth. The parable had softened David’s heart to judge rightly, and now the prophet applied it personally. God often brings conviction in this same way — He allows us to see sin clearly in others before showing us that it is our own reflection. The confrontation was not to destroy David, but to awaken his conscience and lead him to repentance.
Nathan’s words show that true repentance cannot begin until sin is called by its name. General admissions like “I’m not perfect” or “I’ve made mistakes” are not biblical confession. God’s conviction is always specific. Just as Nathan identified each sin — theft, adultery, and murder — so the sinner must name and own their transgression before God. A vague confession never heals a wounded conscience. As Maclaren observed, “You cannot frighten men into repentance; you may frighten them into remorse, and the remorse may or may not lead on to repentance.” God confronts individually, because salvation and cleansing must also be individual. “God accuses us and condemns us one by one that He may save us one by one.” Each believer must stand personally accountable before God, for repentance cannot be delegated or disguised in generalities.
Nathan’s rebuke also exposed the heart of David’s sin — ingratitude toward God’s abundant blessings. The Lord reminded David: “I anointed thee king over Israel, and I delivered thee out of the hand of Saul… I gave thee thy master’s house… and if that had been too little, I would moreover have given unto thee such and such things.” Every phrase emphasized divine grace. David had been chosen, protected, exalted, enriched, and yet he used the privileges of the throne to satisfy selfish desire. His sin was not one of ignorance or necessity but of deliberate rebellion against a gracious God. The Lord was not withholding good from David; He would have gladly given him more if only David had remained faithful. Sin, therefore, was not only moral failure but betrayal of divine generosity. It revealed a heart that had grown indifferent to God’s goodness. Romans 2:4 echoes this truth: “Or despisest thou the riches of his goodness and forbearance and longsuffering; not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance?”
The Lord’s charge was clear and personal: “Wherefore hast thou despised the commandment of the LORD, to do evil in his sight?” This phrase shows that all sin, regardless of its human victims, is first and foremost an offense against God. David’s adultery with Bathsheba, his deceit, and his orchestration of Uriah’s death were all acts of despising the Lord’s Word. Earlier in life, David had declared in Psalm 19:8, “The commandment of the LORD is pure, enlightening the eyes.” Yet now, by his actions, he treated that same commandment as something contemptible and restrictive. Sin always begins when we despise the authority of God’s Word — when His commands are no longer precious but burdensome. To “despise the commandment” means to treat God’s Word as insignificant, to prefer our own will above His revealed law.
Finally, God repeated the core accusation: “Thou hast killed Uriah the Hittite with the sword… thou hast taken his wife to be thy wife.” In this statement, the Lord left David no room for excuses. God did not blame circumstance, passion, or others; He placed full responsibility upon David himself. Though the Ammonites physically wielded the sword, God declared that David was the true murderer. Likewise, the Lord sees beyond instruments and circumstances, holding every sinner personally accountable for his choices. This rebuke reminds us that confession must be as specific as the sin itself. Just as Nathan pointed out each transgression, repentance must acknowledge each offense plainly before God.
(2 Samuel 12:10)
“Now therefore the sword shall never depart from thine house; because thou hast despised me, and hast taken the wife of Uriah the Hittite to be thy wife.”
The divine judgment pronounced upon David was severe and enduring. The Lord declared, “The sword shall never depart from thine house.” This was not merely a momentary consequence but a lifelong shadow over David’s reign and his family. Because David used the sword of the Ammonites to kill Uriah, that same sword would now haunt his own household. The violence that David unleashed in secret would return upon his own sons, bringing turmoil and sorrow within his lineage. Sin’s seeds once sown always bear bitter fruit. David’s transgression, though forgiven spiritually, would bring lasting consequences in the natural realm.
God’s justice also mirrored David’s own judgment. Earlier, David declared that the guilty man in Nathan’s parable should repay fourfold for his crime. God, in turn, required fourfold restitution from David’s own family: the death of Bathsheba’s firstborn son (2 Samuel 12:18), the murder of Amnon (2 Samuel 13:28-29), the rebellion and death of Absalom (2 Samuel 18:14-15), and the eventual execution of Adonijah (1 Kings 2:25). Each loss was a reminder that sin, though forgiven, still leaves scars that ripple across generations. God’s mercy cancels eternal condemnation, but His justice allows temporal consequences to teach His children the seriousness of rebellion.
The Lord continued, “Because thou hast despised me.” In the previous verse, Nathan said David despised the commandment of the Lord. Here God made it clear that despising His Word was equal to despising Him personally. There is no separation between the Author and His commandment. When one rejects divine instruction, they reject the God who gave it. This truth strikes at the heart of all hidden sin. Many assume they can disobey the Word of God while maintaining fellowship with Him, yet Scripture says otherwise. “If we say that we have fellowship with him, and walk in darkness, we lie, and do not the truth” (1 John 1:6). Fellowship with God cannot coexist with the willful rejection of His moral authority. David’s sin was not only against Uriah and Bathsheba but against the very Person of God, whose holiness he treated lightly.
God also chose His words with deliberate precision: “the wife of Uriah the Hittite.” Even after Uriah’s death, the Lord refused to call her “David’s wife.” This phrasing was not an oversight but a rebuke. God wanted David to remember her not as a possession gained through deceit, but as another man’s wife whom he had unlawfully taken. Sin often seeks to rename its victims to soften its memory, but God keeps the truth plain. Bathsheba’s identity as Uriah’s wife reminded David that his sin could never be rewritten by royal privilege. The Lord’s justice, though tempered by mercy, did not allow the king to disguise his guilt behind titles or legal technicalities.
(2 Samuel 12:11-12)
“Thus saith the LORD, Behold, I will raise up evil against thee out of thine own house, and I will take thy wives before thine eyes, and give them unto thy neighbour, and he shall lie with thy wives in the sight of this sun. For thou didst it secretly: but I will do this thing before all Israel, and before the sun.”
The second part of Nathan’s prophecy extends the scope of divine discipline. God said, “I will raise up evil against thee out of thine own house.” The term “evil” in this context means adversity, calamity, or rebellion. The Lord warned David that because he had brought turmoil into another man’s home, his own household would become a source of rebellion and pain. This prophecy found literal fulfillment through Absalom, David’s son, who led a public revolt against his father and plunged the kingdom into civil war. The domestic harmony that once marked David’s reign was shattered, replaced by conflict born from his own moral failure. The sword that would not depart was now sharpened in the hands of his own sons.
God further declared, “I will take thy wives before thine eyes, and give them unto thy neighbour.” This was a direct consequence reflecting David’s sin with Bathsheba. Just as he took another man’s wife, so would another man take his. The fulfillment came in 2 Samuel 16:21-22, when Absalom, following the counsel of Ahithophel, publicly lay with David’s concubines on the rooftop. The very location of David’s temptation — the palace rooftop where he first gazed upon Bathsheba — became the scene of his humiliation. As the commentator Trapp observed, “Absalom abused his father’s concubines on the house-top: and haply on that same terrace from whence he first looked, liked, and lusted after Bathsheba.” God’s justice was poetic and public, transforming David’s secret sin into a national spectacle.
The Lord concluded, “For thou didst it secretly: but I will do this thing before all Israel, and before the sun.” The contrast between secrecy and exposure is striking. David’s sin was hidden in darkness, but his chastisement would be displayed in the full light of day. This fulfilled the divine law of sowing and reaping, “Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap” (Galatians 6:7). The humiliation that David inflicted upon Uriah in secret was magnified publicly upon David himself. God’s justice not only punishes but educates; it teaches that no sin, however concealed, escapes divine reckoning. The exposure of David’s sin before all Israel ensured that others would fear God and honor His holiness.
B. David’s Repentance; the Death of His Newborn Son
(2 Samuel 12:13a)
“And David said unto Nathan, I have sinned against the LORD.”
David’s response to Nathan’s confrontation reveals the heart of true repentance. When the prophet exposed his sin, David did not argue, excuse, or retaliate. He simply confessed, “I have sinned against the LORD.” These few words carried immense weight, reflecting a broken and contrite spirit. His confession was brief but genuine, showing deep humility before God. In the original Hebrew, this statement is only two words — ḥāṭāʾ ʾel-YHWH — yet they express a complete surrender of pride. David did not attempt to justify himself or blame circumstance; he accepted full personal responsibility. His heart was pierced, and the simplicity of his confession proved the sincerity of his repentance.
This moment marked the great difference between David and Saul. Both men sinned grievously, but Saul’s confessions were long and shallow, filled with excuses and self-preservation. When Saul was confronted, he said, “I have sinned: yet honour me now, I pray thee, before the elders of my people” (1 Samuel 15:30). Saul sought to preserve his image, while David sought only to be restored to God. The brevity of David’s words does not indicate superficiality but rather depth — the kind of confession that flows from a crushed heart. As the commentators Keil and Delitzsch observed, “There is no excuse, no concealment, no pretext, no pleading of weakness; he acknowledges his guilt openly, candidly, and without any denial of truth.” The fewest words often carry the deepest sorrow.
David’s reaction was extraordinary for a king. Monarchs in the ancient world did not often tolerate rebuke, much less confess guilt so openly. Yet David’s immediate response — not anger or denial, but repentance — showed that God had been working on his heart even before Nathan arrived. The prophet’s words were the final stroke that broke the hardened surface of his conscience. Godly conviction is often a process: the Spirit works inwardly until the sinner is ready to yield. In this way, David demonstrated why Scripture calls him a man after God’s own heart. He was not perfect, but he was teachable. He feared God enough to humble himself under divine correction, even when it came through another man.
David’s statement also began with “I.” He did not speak in generalities, saying “we have sinned,” nor did he hide among collective guilt. True repentance is personal. Though many were involved in the events — Joab, messengers, and servants — David acknowledged that his sin was his own. Every genuine confession begins with ownership. As long as sin is excused or shifted onto others, forgiveness remains distant. David declared, “I have sinned,” not “I made a mistake” or “I was weak.” He did not call his sin a lapse in judgment or an unfortunate accident. He called it what it was — sin. In modern terms, this distinction is often lost. Society softens sin with words like “problem” or “error,” but Scripture never does. God forgives sin, not excuses.
The phrase “against the LORD” reveals the ultimate offense. While David’s actions harmed Bathsheba, Uriah, his household, and the integrity of the kingdom, his greatest crime was against God Himself. Every sin, regardless of its earthly scope, is first a violation of divine holiness. To transgress against man is grievous, but to rebel against the Creator magnifies the guilt infinitely. As David later wrote in his psalm of repentance, “Against thee, thee only, have I sinned, and done this evil in thy sight” (Psalm 51:4). This was not a denial of wrongs done to others, but an acknowledgment that all sin is primarily an offense against the One who defines righteousness. The measure of sin’s seriousness is not the size of the act but the greatness of the One sinned against. There are no small sins before a great God, and great sins are even greater still.
David’s confession in 2 Samuel 12 was the seed of a deeper repentance that would soon blossom into the prayer of Psalm 51. There, his heart is laid bare:
“Have mercy upon me, O God, according to thy lovingkindness: according unto the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my transgressions: and my sin is ever before me. Against thee, thee only, have I sinned, and done this evil in thy sight; that thou mightest be justified when thou speakest, and be clear when thou judgest.... For thou desirest not sacrifice; else would I give it: thou delightest not in burnt offering. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise” (Psalm 51:1–4, 16–17).
In these verses, David demonstrated profound spiritual insight. He recognized that forgiveness flows from God’s mercy, not human merit; that cleansing must come from God’s hand, not religious ritual; and that what God desires most is not burnt offerings, but a broken and contrite heart. His confession was not a mere emotional outburst but a deliberate act of submission to God’s righteousness. David no longer defended himself; he vindicated God. He accepted that the Lord was just in His judgment and merciful in His discipline. In this, David showed the pattern of repentance that all believers must follow — acknowledgment of sin, personal responsibility, sorrow over offending God, and confidence in divine mercy.
(2 Samuel 12:13b–14)
“And Nathan said unto David, The LORD also hath put away thy sin; thou shalt not die. Howbeit, because by this deed thou hast given great occasion to the enemies of the LORD to blaspheme, the child also that is born unto thee shall surely die.”
Nathan’s declaration revealed both the mercy and the justice of God. First, he announced divine forgiveness: “The LORD also hath put away thy sin; thou shalt not die.” The forgiveness was immediate, complete, and undeserved. David’s sin of adultery and murder was punishable by death under the Law, for Leviticus 20:10 commands, “And the man that committeth adultery with another man's wife, even he that committeth adultery with his neighbour's wife, the adulterer and the adulteress shall surely be put to death.” Yet, by grace, God spared David’s life. His confession, humble and unguarded, was met by instant pardon. There was no probationary period, no requirement to prove repentance through works. The same mercy that convicts also cleanses, and when God forgives, He does so fully and immediately. The prophet’s assurance, “Thou shalt not die,” carried with it divine authority — David believed Nathan’s earlier rebuke, and now he must believe the comfort of forgiveness with equal faith.
This moment illustrates a timeless truth about salvation: forgiveness is granted not through merit, but through confession and faith. Psalm 32:5 reflects David’s understanding of this principle after his restoration: “I acknowledged my sin unto thee, and mine iniquity have I not hid. I said, I will confess my transgressions unto the LORD; and thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin.” The same God who convicts is the One who cleanses. David’s life demonstrates that no sin is beyond the reach of divine mercy when repentance is sincere. Yet forgiveness does not erase the natural consequences of sin; it removes the eternal penalty, not always the temporal repercussions.
Nathan continued, “Howbeit, because by this deed thou hast given great occasion to the enemies of the LORD to blaspheme.” David’s actions had damaged the testimony of God’s people before the watching world. His sin was not merely personal — it was public. As king, he represented God’s rule on earth, and when he sinned like the heathen kings around him, he dishonored the name of the Lord. His conduct confirmed the accusations of God’s enemies, who could now mock the holiness of Israel’s God and the integrity of His anointed. The scandal gave fuel to the fires of blasphemy. This is one of the gravest consequences of sin among believers: it gives unbelievers reason to ridicule righteousness. David’s secret sin had become public shame, and God would not allow His name to be disgraced without consequence.
Trapp observed well, “Hitherto all the king’s care had been to conceal his sin from the world, which yet he could not do with all his skill, for the enemies had got it by the end.” The attempt to cover sin always leads to exposure, and exposure always leads to reproach. Sin never remains private for long. David’s guilt was not only against God and man, but against the witness of the covenant people. His fall became a scandal that echoed beyond the palace walls, staining the name of the Lord before surrounding nations.
Finally, Nathan declared the immediate and grievous consequence: “The child also that is born unto thee shall surely die.” God forgave David’s sin but did not remove all its results. This was not judgment for sin — for the guilt had been taken away — but judgment by sin, the chastening hand of a Father who disciplines those He loves. The life of the innocent child would be taken as part of the temporal consequence, demonstrating both the seriousness of David’s offense and the holiness of God. Forgiveness and discipline coexist in divine justice. David was spared eternal judgment, yet he would still bear temporal sorrow.
This chastisement was not arbitrary cruelty but sanctifying correction. God desired not only to pardon David’s guilt but to purify his heart from the root of his sin. Through this painful loss, David would learn to hate the lust and pride that had nearly destroyed him. As Spurgeon noted, “Long before his sin with Bathsheba, there were various indications as to David’s special liability to temptation. That sin only threw out upon the surface the evil that was always within him; and now God, having him see that the deadly cancer is there, begins to use the knife to cut it out of him.” The loss of the child, though severe, became the scalpel of divine mercy. From this time forward, Scripture records no further instance of adultery in David’s life. The pain of his chastisement became the barrier that restrained future sin.
This passage reminds every believer that while sin can be forgiven, its wounds may still leave scars. God’s grace removes condemnation, but His holiness demands correction. Through Nathan’s message, David learned that the fear of the Lord and the grief of repentance are not contradictions — they are instruments of restoration. The forgiven king would live under the shadow of mercy and the discipline of love.
(2 Samuel 12:15–23)
“And Nathan departed unto his house. And the LORD struck the child that Uriah’s wife bare unto David, and it was very sick. David therefore besought God for the child; and David fasted, and went in, and lay all night upon the earth. And the elders of his house arose, and went to him, to raise him up from the earth: but he would not, neither did he eat bread with them. And it came to pass on the seventh day, that the child died. And the servants of David feared to tell him that the child was dead: for they said, Behold, while the child was yet alive, we spake unto him, and he would not hearken unto our voice: how will he then vex himself, if we tell him that the child is dead? But when David saw that his servants whispered, David perceived that the child was dead: therefore David said unto his servants, Is the child dead? And they said, He is dead. Then David arose from the earth, and washed, and anointed himself, and changed his apparel, and came into the house of the LORD, and worshipped: then he came to his own house; and when he required, they set bread before him, and he did eat. Then said his servants unto him, What thing is this that thou hast done? thou didst fast and weep for the child, while it was alive; but when the child was dead, thou didst rise and eat bread. And he said, While the child was yet alive, I fasted and wept: for I said, Who can tell whether GOD will be gracious to me, that the child may live? But now he is dead, wherefore should I fast? can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me.”
When Nathan departed, God’s word of chastisement was immediately fulfilled: “The LORD struck the child that Uriah’s wife bare unto David, and it was very sick.” The sacred writer deliberately calls Bathsheba Uriah’s wife, reminding us that God had not forgotten the injustice done. Though the marriage between David and Bathsheba was now legal, the act that conceived this child was rooted in sin. The prophet’s announcement was fulfilled in the Lord’s direct hand of judgment. This is difficult for many to accept, for the child was innocent. Yet Scripture does not hesitate to ascribe the child’s illness to the Lord’s righteous discipline. “The biblical writer does not hesitate to attribute directly to the Lord the sickness of this child, in accordance with the prophet’s word.” (Baldwin)
This was not cruelty but divine correction. The chastisement fell upon David and Bathsheba, not the child. Though their son suffered, his pain was not without comfort, for we trust that the mercy of God embraced him in death. David’s grief was immense, but the greater tragedy was his own sin that brought such sorrow into his house. This event reminds us that even forgiven sin bears consequences. God’s mercy removes guilt, but His holiness often allows discipline to remain. As F. B. Meyer said, “God’s mercy to His erring and repentant children will be shown in converting the results of their sin into the fires of their purification.”
David’s reaction to the child’s illness revealed both faith and brokenness. “David therefore besought God for the child; and David fasted, and went in, and lay all night upon the earth.” The king who once slept on ivory couches now lay on the ground in humility. He refused food and comfort, choosing instead to cry out to God in prayer and fasting. Though the sentence had been pronounced, David still hoped for mercy. True repentance never surrenders to despair; it pleads earnestly with God even in the face of chastisement. When divine judgment comes, the believer should not respond with fatalism but with intercession, seeking grace from the same God who judges. David’s fasting was not manipulation; it was surrender. He knew God’s will might not change, yet he humbled himself to ask nonetheless.
For seven days the child lingered between life and death, and David remained in constant prayer. When the child finally died, his servants hesitated to tell him, fearing his grief would drive him to despair. Yet David, discerning their whispers, asked plainly, “Is the child dead?” When they answered, “He is dead,” the king did something that astonished everyone. He rose, washed, anointed himself, changed his clothes, and went to the house of the LORD to worship. Then he returned to his home and ate food. His servants, confused, asked how he could fast while the child lived but eat once he had died. David’s response revealed profound spiritual maturity: “While the child was yet alive, I fasted and wept: for I said, Who can tell whether GOD will be gracious to me, that the child may live? But now he is dead; wherefore should I fast? can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me.”
Here, David displayed submission to God’s sovereign will. His fasting was not an attempt to change God but to prepare his own heart to receive God’s decision. Once the Lord had spoken through the death of the child, David accepted it without bitterness. His immediate worship was evidence that he found peace in God’s mercy and justice. It takes great faith to bow in worship when prayers are denied, yet that is precisely what David did. The king’s reaction demonstrated that the purpose of prayer and fasting is not to bend God’s will to ours but to align our will with His. When the answer came — even though it was painful — David responded with reverence, not resentment.
This moment also gives one of Scripture’s clearest insights into the eternal destiny of infants. David’s statement, “I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me,” affirms his confident expectation of reunion in heaven. He knew his son’s soul was safe in the presence of the Lord. The doctrine of infant salvation finds its foundation here. The child was not saved because of innocence — for all are born under Adam’s curse — but because of God’s sovereign mercy. In Christ’s atonement, grace extends to those who have not reached the age of accountability. Paul alludes to this divine covering in 1 Corinthians 7:14, saying, “For the unbelieving husband is sanctified by the wife, and the unbelieving wife is sanctified by the husband: else were your children unclean; but now are they holy.” Children of believing parents are under the umbrella of divine grace until they can personally choose faith or rejection.
While Scripture gives no explicit promise for the children of unbelievers, we trust in the same character of God — just, merciful, and loving — who does what is right. Should such children be received into heaven, it is not because they are innocent but because God’s mercy is greater than their inherited guilt. Salvation, in every case, is of grace, not merit. David’s assurance, then, is a comfort to every parent who has mourned a child. Death could not separate him from his son forever. His words echo down the centuries to every grieving believer: “I shall go to him.”
(2 Samuel 12:24–25)
“And David comforted Bathsheba his wife, and went in unto her, and lay with her: and she bare a son, and he called his name Solomon: and the LORD loved him. And he sent by the hand of Nathan the prophet; and he called his name Jedidiah, because of the LORD.”
This passage reveals the beautiful restoration of divine mercy following David’s repentance and chastisement. After the death of their first child, “David comforted Bathsheba his wife.” This is the first time Scripture calls her Bathsheba his wife rather than the wife of Uriah. Every mention of her prior to this moment, except for the factual reference in 2 Samuel 11:3, bore the reminder of sin — she was the wife of another man. Now, however, the relationship, once stained by adultery and deceit, is sanctified by repentance and forgiveness. God’s discipline had run its course, and grace had transformed what began in sin into something redeemed. This change in title was not mere narrative detail but a sign of divine reconciliation. The relationship was no longer defined by guilt but by God’s mercy.
David’s act of comforting Bathsheba demonstrates compassion and tenderness toward the woman who had also borne the weight of judgment. Both had suffered under God’s discipline, and now they shared in His mercy. Their union continued: “He went in unto her, and lay with her.” This shows that God did not require David to dissolve or abandon his marriage, even though it began through sin. The Lord’s instruction was not to undo the past but to move forward in righteousness. Paul later expressed this principle in 1 Corinthians 7:17, saying, “But as God hath distributed to every man, as the Lord hath called every one, so let him walk.” In context, Paul taught that a believer should not attempt to reverse every prior decision or relationship after conversion, but rather honor God where they now stand. The past must be confessed, not erased; forgiven, not relived. David could not undo the wrong that led to his marriage, but he could honor God within it henceforth.
Bathsheba then bore another son, and David named him Solomon, which means “peaceful.” The name is fitting, for it marked the end of divine chastisement and the restoration of peace between David and God. Scripture immediately declares, “And the LORD loved him.” This simple phrase radiates with the warmth of divine affection. The Lord who had struck their first child now blessed their second. The same God who had judged sin now extended mercy, proving that His grace is greater than human failure. The divine favor upon Solomon shows that God holds no lingering grudge against those who truly repent. His mercy restores not only fellowship but fruitfulness.
Trapp insightfully observed, “David’s best sons came of Bathsheba; because they were the fruit of their humiliation.” From the soil of brokenness came the seed of blessing. God did not curse David’s future because of his past; instead, He brought forth a testimony of redemption. In His sovereign wisdom, God chose this son — born out of a marriage that began in sin — to inherit the throne of Israel and to become part of the Messianic lineage. It was Solomon, the son of Bathsheba, who would build the temple and reign in the golden age of peace. Through him, God demonstrated that His grace not only forgives but also redeems what was once corrupt. Human failure cannot thwart divine purpose when repentance restores the heart.
This truth echoes throughout Scripture: God delights to bring beauty from ashes. The world may refuse to forget a sinner’s past, but God remembers sin no more. As Psalm 103:12 declares, “As far as the east is from the west, so far hath he removed our transgressions from us.” Many believers struggle to forgive themselves or to believe that they can still be used by God after moral failure, yet the story of David and Bathsheba proves otherwise. God’s forgiveness is not partial; it is restorative. The Lord’s choice of Solomon as heir is a divine statement that redemption triumphs over condemnation.
Through Nathan once more, the Lord affirmed His love for the child: “He sent by the hand of Nathan the prophet; and he called his name Jedidiah, because of the LORD.” The name Jedidiah means “Beloved of the LORD.” This was God’s personal declaration of affection. It was as though He placed a seal of grace upon the child’s life, proclaiming that the shadow of sin no longer defined this family. Jedidiah was a reminder that divine love had replaced divine wrath, that mercy had triumphed over judgment. The presence of Nathan — the very prophet who once condemned David — now became the messenger of blessing, symbolizing that reconciliation had been fully accomplished.
C. David’s Victory at Rabbah
(2 Samuel 12:26–28)
“And Joab fought against Rabbah of the children of Ammon, and took the royal city. And Joab sent messengers to David, and said, I have fought against Rabbah, and have taken the city of waters. Now therefore gather the rest of the people together, and encamp against the city, and take it: lest I take the city, and it be called after my name.”
The narrative shifts from the sorrow of David’s chastisement to his restoration and renewed calling as Israel’s king. “And Joab fought against Rabbah of the children of Ammon, and took the royal city.” This victory concluded the same conflict that began in 2 Samuel 10, when David sent Joab to battle the Ammonites after their humiliation of his messengers. For over a year, Joab had besieged Rabbah, the capital city of Ammon, but full victory remained elusive. Only after David’s repentance and reconciliation with God was the conquest completed. There is a profound spiritual principle here: unconfessed sin in the life of God’s servant hinders the work of God’s hand. David’s moral failure at home had disrupted success abroad; now, restored in fellowship with God, victory resumed. As Trapp noted, “David’s sin at home had hindered Joab’s good success abroad, and retarded the conquest of this city Rabbah, which now is ready to be taken, that David reconciled to God may have the honour of it.”
Joab, the commander of Israel’s army, recognized that Rabbah’s final defeat was imminent. He wrote to David, saying, “I have taken the city of waters.” The “city of waters” likely refers to the lower city of Rabbah, which controlled the city’s vital water supply. Without water, the upper fortress could not stand much longer. Joab then urged David, “Now therefore gather the rest of the people together, and encamp against the city, and take it: lest I take the city, and it be called after my name.” Joab’s message served both as a military update and a subtle rebuke. He reminded David of his royal duty to lead Israel in battle, the very duty he neglected when he remained in Jerusalem and fell into sin with Bathsheba. The statement, “lest it be called after my name,” goaded David to action — it challenged his pride as king to finish what his general had begun. Yet this was not mere flattery or ambition on Joab’s part; it was providence. God used Joab’s words to restore David to his rightful role as leader of the nation.
Joab’s success and David’s renewed participation in battle illustrate the grace of restoration. The Lord’s forgiveness does not merely absolve guilt; it reinstates purpose. When David’s heart was distant from God, his kingdom stagnated. When he repented, God once again blessed his leadership. The same God who chastened him for sin now enabled him for service. This victory at Rabbah marked the outward sign of David’s inward restoration — he was again a man after God’s own heart, doing what a king of Israel was called to do.
(2 Samuel 12:29–31)
“And David gathered all the people together, and went to Rabbah, and fought against it, and took it. And he took their king’s crown from off his head, the weight whereof was a talent of gold with precious stones: and it was set on David’s head. And he brought forth the spoil of the city in great abundance. And he brought forth the people that were therein, and put them under saws, and under harrows of iron, and under axes of iron, and made them pass through the brickkiln: and thus did he unto all the cities of the children of Ammon. So David and all the people returned unto Jerusalem.”
Once David gathered his troops and returned to battle, Scripture records simply, “He fought against it, and took it.” The restoration was complete. The king who had once fallen into spiritual paralysis was now walking again in obedience and victory. Sin had not disqualified David from God’s purposes, because repentance had restored him. There is both hope and warning here: sin brings chastisement, but not necessarily ruin; repentance brings restoration, but not exemption from consequence. The grace of God does not erase the past, but it redeems the future.
Upon conquering Rabbah, David received its royal crown — “the weight whereof was a talent of gold with precious stones.” A talent was a massive weight, perhaps over seventy pounds, and though the crown may not have been worn for long periods, it symbolized royal authority. The text records, “it was set on David’s head.” This gesture carried deep significance. The same head once bowed in shame over sin was now crowned again in honor by the hand of divine grace. God had restored not only David’s fellowship but his kingship. Sin could have cost him the throne, but repentance secured it. The promise of God’s covenant in 2 Samuel 7:16 still stood: “And thine house and thy kingdom shall be established for ever before thee: thy throne shall be established for ever.”
David also took “the spoil of the city in great abundance.” The victory at Rabbah not only restored David’s honor but enriched his kingdom. God’s chastisement had given way to blessing. The Lord who had struck the child now strengthened the nation. The victory symbolized that when a believer is restored to right fellowship with God, spiritual fruit and prosperity follow.
Verse 31 records, “He brought forth the people that were therein, and put them under saws, and under harrows of iron, and under axes of iron, and made them pass through the brickkiln.” This language may describe either forced labor or severe punishment. The phrase “made them pass through” likely refers to subjugation — the conquered Ammonites were made to serve Israel through labor in rebuilding projects and public works, such as cutting timber, shaping iron, and making bricks. Other translations interpret it as judgment by execution, though the context suggests labor rather than slaughter, as David imposed this upon all the cities of Ammon, not just Rabbah. In either case, it shows the thoroughness of Israel’s victory and the end of Ammon’s hostility.
Finally, “David and all the people returned unto Jerusalem.” This marks the full circle of David’s restoration. He began the chapter burdened by guilt and estranged from God; he ends it reconciled, victorious, and reigning in peace. The mercy of God had triumphed over the failure of man. David’s crown, reclaimed through grace, becomes a testimony for all generations that repentance brings renewal, and forgiveness restores even the fallen. As Augustine wisely observed, “David’s fall should put those who have not fallen on their guard, and save from despair those who have.”
