Living without Justice. Loren R. Fisher
suppose so, but I thought that Naam must have pressured you for a quick marriage.”
“No. It may have been the other way around.”
Then I said with ironic denial, “I hate to interrupt your conversation, but we did not pressure each other. Yes, we were under pressure, but it was as if we had a fever. It may have been those mosquitoes at Beth-shan or some love-bug.”
Rachel said with Samuel smiling, “I don’t believe a word of that, but we are happy for you.”
Rachel and Sharmila hugged, and Samuel said to me, “Those two are going to have a good time in the years to come.”
8
It looks like this is going to be a long book. I did not plan to give so many details leading up to our marriage, but the story has a way of taking over.
So, the party was fun for all of us. The men arrived in time for lunch, which I am sure was no coincidence. Jacob and his friend Joseph were with them. Jacob and Joseph had decided to go to Beth-shan to work for Abdi-anati. All the men were eager to sit down at the long table that we had constructed under the tree. I don’t think the children ever sat down for lunch, but they had been snatching a bite here and there as the food was being put on the table. But the adults all sat down and enjoyed the great picnic. We had bread, several kinds of cheese, honey, cold lamb, yogurt, sliced cucumbers from Tamar’s garden, raisin cakes, and wine. Before we began to eat, Khety stood up and said, “As you know, I am from Egypt, and today we have guests from Beth-shan. The Egyptians ruled Beth-shan for many years, and people of Beth-shan acquired some Egyptian tastes. Hence the people from Egypt and Beth-shan love their beer. So for this great occasion I have made some beer, and I hope you all enjoy it.”
Everyone gave Khety a cheer, and Pidray announced that for our evening meal we would have her lamb stew along with Khety’s beer and after dinner some melon from Beth-shan. Everyone had plenty to eat; some of the folks looked sleepy, but the conversation was too rich and kept the sleepy ones from nodding.
At one point father said, “King Saul’s capital was at Gibeah, which is only a short walk north of where we are sitting. I suppose that these two estates furnished a lot of food for Saul’s table in the past.”
“But it was probably not prepared like our food today,” said Khety. “This was really fine.”
Tamar 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