Why I believe storytelling is a timeless and universal avenue of communication [illustrated through the story of David, Bathsheba, Uriah and Nathan]:
A King named David had seen woman who he liked a lot: Bathsheba. The problem was Bathsheba already had a husband, and a good one too. His name was Uriah, he was a person of principle, integrity, hard work, and he really loved her.
But David couldn’t seem to shake the thought of Bathsheba, and being accustomed to getting what he wanted, he invited her to the palace and slept with her. Did she consent? With that level of power imbalance and lack of information it’s questionable at best, but that’s another story.
David realised he’d crossed a line and that wasn’t going to fly with his people. But he didn’t take the high road of addressing his serious indiscretion. Instead, like so many others before and since him, he covered it up. David used his position of authority to send Uriah to the frontline of battle. Uriah was dedicated to doing what was right, so believing it was a necessary and legitimate assignment, he went even quicker than he was asked to. In reality, David had appointed Uriah to the frontline needlessly, knowing he would likely be killed there; and he was.
The hand of a faceless enemy had cut down the reminder of David’s mistake. The dirty work had been done for him. David quickly married the now widowed Bathsheba, which ironically appeared as an honourable act of kindness. His reputation was not only salvaged but elevated, his desires were satiated, and the darkness of it all was literally buried, out of sight.
With injustice covered up, all was settled, at least in the public eye. But the heart of God [and likely that of Bathsheba] was broken. So a story stirred up in the mind of a man called Nathan. Because Nathan was known to be a prophet, he was able to request time with King David. As the two sat together Nathan began to tell a compelling story…
I heard there was a poor farmer, he didn’t have much, but he had one little lamb who he loved like a daughter. It sat on his lap as he ate dinner, drank from his own cup, grew up together with his children; it was precious to him. One day his wealthy neighbour had an unexpected guest. Not wanting to use up one of his own livestock, though he had many, he saw the man’s favourite little lamb, took it, slaughtered it and served it.
This story of innocence, love and a senselessly brutal betrayal captured David completely. Hearing the disturbing ending, David stood up with his blood boiling – “Where is this neighbour? Who could have that little humanity? He should die for what he did!”.
Eyes straight ahead, Nathan replied, “It’s you”.
Fuck. A gut punch. What had been a truth too hard to face, what entitlement and privilege had masked, what injustice he’d hardened himself to, was all unravelled by a story. David’s own heart finally broke for what he’d done and he entered a period of reflection, mourning and change.
