There was once a man who had a great desire to be an actor. Unfortunately, he couldn't act very well and never got the part. Audition after audition, he was turned down. One day, he finally got a part. It was a small part, but a part nonetheless. It didn't matter, the man was overjoyed. The part had only one line. Towards the end of the play, a huge cannon was going to shoot out a cannon ball and he was to call out, "Hark, I hear the cannon roar!" The man was so excited -- everywhere he went he practiced his line, "Hark, I hear the cannon roar!" On line at the supermarket, "Hark, I hear the cannon roar!" During his lunch hour, "Hark, I hear the cannon roar!" And before he went to bed, "Hark, I hear the cannon roar!" The day of the play finally arrived and the man was ready. The play began and he was filled with great anticipation. When it finally reached his part, the cannon let out a thunderous blast, and the man got startled. "What in the world was that?!" he yelled. He missed his line.
It is well known that the first two kings of Israel both committed serious transgressions. The first king, Shaul, sinned during battle. The prophet Shmuel had instructed him to launch an all-out war against Amalek, Israel's greatest enemy (I Shmuel 15). Shaul was commanded to fulfill the Torah obligation of blotting out the memory of Amalek; destroying their property and wiping them out. Shaul was to spare no one: men and women, infants and sucklings, oxen and sheep, camels and donkeys -- all were to be killed. But when the war ends, Shaul captures King Agag of Amalek alive. And not only that: he spares the best of the sheep, the oxen, the cattle, the lambs and anything else that was of value. The prophet Shmuel is outraged that Shaul violated Hashem's command. When confronted, Shaul tries to rationalize his transgression. "I was afraid of my troops," he says, "and I yielded to them." Shaul blames his soldiers. It was the troops who wanted to keep King Agag alive, it was the troops who insisted that they take the best items as spoils of war. He claims that he was frightened and gave in to their demands, even though they were against Hashem's wishes. Shaul was given the opportunity to admit his wrongdoing; to do Teshuvah, to repent, but he blamed his transgressions on others. When the cannon let out a thunderous blast, Shaul yelled, "What in the world was that?!" He missed his line. The kingship was ripped away from Shaul and given to David Hamelekh.
Our second king also had his failings (II Shmuel 11-12). One day while standing on the roof of his palace, David Hamelekh spotted Batsheva, the wife of one of his soldiers, Uriah. He was immediately love-struck. David Hamelekh summoned her to his palace and slept with her. She conceived a child. The quick-thinking monarch then orders her husband Uriah back from war, so that he would have marital relations with Batsheva, and David Hamelekh's paternity of the child would be concealed. But Uriah refuses to return to his house to rest while his fellow soldiers are locked in battle. David Hamelekh, now in desperate, sends Uriah back to the war and orders the general to place him in the front lines, where the fighting is most fierce, and he will be killed. The plan works, and after Batsheva's period of mourning ends, David Hamelekh marries her. The prophet Natan then comes to David Hamelekh with a problem. He tells the King of two men, one rich and one poor. The rich man had very large flocks and herds, but the poor man had only one little lamb, which he cared for with great tenderness. One day, the rich man received a traveler, but was loathe to take any of his own livestock to prepare a meal for the guest. So, he took the poor man's lamb and prepared it for the traveler. Upon hearing this, David Hamelekh flew into a rage. "As Hashem lives," he tells Natan, "the man who did this deserves to die." "Ata Haish," Natan responds, "you are the man!" Natan then explains how David Hamelekh was the rich man, whom Hashem had blessed in numerous way. His soldier Uriah, however, been blessed with just one "lamb," his wife, Batsheva. David Hamelekh answered Natan with just two words, "Hatati LeHashem - I have sinned before Hashem." The cannon let out its thunderous boom and David Hamelekh said, "Hark, I hear the cannon roar." He did not miss his line. David Hamelekh takes responsibility for his transgressions, and therefore his Teshuvah, his repentance, is accepted. David remained king, his offspring will always retain the kingship, and the Moshiach, the Messiah himself, will sprout from his line.
In many respects, David Hamelekh's sin was greater than Shaul's. And yet, Hashem allowed David Hamelekh to retain his kingdom, while He stripped Shaul of his. Why? This was explained beautifully by my teacher, Rabbi Ronald Price: Because when confronted with their sins, Shaul made excuses, while David Hamelekh acknowledged his transgressions. Shaul blamed others, David Hamelekh blamed himself. Shaul rationalized his behavior, David Hamelekh did Teshuvah. Shaul said, "what in the world was that?!", David Hamelekh said, "Hark, I hear the cannon roar."
During the Aseret Yemei Teshuvah - the Ten Day of Repentance, we dedicate an incredible amount of time and effort to ridding ourselves of sin. Throughout the month of Elul, we blow the shofar every morning. The Saturday night before Rosh Hashanah, we stay up into the middle of the night to saying Selihot. We continue to say Selihot every morning until Yom Kippur. Just before Rosh Hashanah, we immerse in the Mikvah. On Rosh Hashanah, we wear Kittels, daven all day, blow the Shofar 100 times and say Tashlich, during which we symbolically cast away our sins. Before Yom Kippur, we immerse in the Mikvah again and Shelug Kaporos. On Yom Kippur, we don our Kittels again, we fast, we refrain from bathing, marital relations, and wearing leather shoes, and we spend even more time davening. We are like the man rehearsing for his play at every opportunity. But when it comes time to deliver our "line," so many of us miss it. So many of us respond like Shaul when challenged about his behavior. We make excuses for our sins, we blame others and we rationalize our behavior. We attribute our transgressions to our upbringing, our parents and our lifestyles. We lay blame on anything and anyone. Merely repeating the words of the Vidui, the confession, over and over again, "Al Heit Shehatanu Lefanekha - For the sins we have committed sinned before You, Hashem" is not enough. Do we ever simply and honestly mean "Hatati LeHashem - I have sinned before Hashem"? Do we ever simply and honestly respond like David Hamelekh when confronted by Natan?
The Vilna Gaon has an incredible insight on David Hamelekh's response. Right after David Hamelekh says, "Hatati LeHashem," there is sudden break in the text - a Piska Beemtza Hapasuk. The second half of the verse begins of a new line: "And Natan said to David, 'Hashem has commuted your sin, you shall not die.'" The Vilna Gaon explains that this unusual break signifies a moment of hesitation on David Hamelekh's part. Even after he admitted his sin, David Hamelekh was about to make excuses for what he had done, about to blame it on others, about to rationalize his behavior, about to explain it all away. But he stopped himself. He began and ended with the simple confession, "Hatati LeHashem - I have sinned before Hashem," period.
Because of this he was forgiven, and because of this he remained "Melekh Yisrael - the King of Israel."
Rabbi
Mordechai Friedfertig
Congregation B'nai Shalom
Williamsville,
New York
Email: mordechai at utj.org
Copyright 2001-2003 by Mordechai Friedfertig