That day passed in a haze. Uriah hardly noticed the time as it slipped away. He spoke hardly a word through the evening meal, a man long dead. He drank his fill of wine, forgot his troubles, and filled his cup again. Too drunk to care any longer, he wrapped himself in his cloak and slept once again on the dirt at the entrance to the palace.
In the cold morning, a messenger from the king gave Uriah a scroll to deliver to General Joab. He tucked it among his sparse baggage and urged his donkey forward. Uriah no longer cared that he was far from his men. He no longer thought of the war, of how the siege was faring. He no longer wondered about where he would camp, whether he would make decent time, if the weather would hold out or if he would face rain. Uriah’s mind revolved around one thing, the secret he knew.
Uriah knew the king had slept with Bathsheba. Uriah knew he would never see his wife again. Uriah knew now that honor and sacrifice only ended in pain, that faithfulness was repaid with betrayal. Uriah knew the cost of fealty.
What Uriah didn’t know, as he made his way to the armies surrounding Rabbah, was that the scroll he was delivering carried his death sentence. What he didn’t know was that the king who had stolen his wife had also ordered his murder.
Three days later, General Joab would send Uriah and a small contingent of soldiers to face an Ammonite charge close to the well-defended walls of Rabbah, a foolish and suicidal mission. In the thick of battle, Uriah would die there, pierced by the arrows of Israel. His men would die faithfully by his side.
As he rode from Jerusalem, though, Uriah knew none of what he would soon face. He only knew what he was fleeing.
Tags: 2 Samuel, David, honor, Old Testament, sacrifice, Uriah
