Her announcement came as a surprise. It shouldn’t have. He should have seen it coming. Even at his advanced age he should have recognized the lust for power in Adonijah’s eyes. He should have done something about it before things reached this chaotic state, before the boys had chosen sides, before the rift in his family became irreparable, before a portion of his faithful men broke off to form a different alliance. He should have made the decree, named a successor so much sooner. He hadn’t.
Until he’d actually found himself in such a helpless state, it had been difficult to accept his own mortality. So hard to picture someone else in his place, on his throne, ruling his people. His mind still wandered back to the warrior he’d been. More active. More fit. His eyes had been clearer, his mind sharper. He’d spent very little time imagining the day when he couldn’t or wouldn’t sit on the throne. Unfortunately, with no permission from him, David’s health had declined. His body transitioned from fit to frail. And his boys were fighting among themselves. Again.
From the moment David’s body had begun to show signs of aging, Adonijah had been planning his own succession. Plotting a coup. Preparing a takeover. As the beautiful Abishag attended the ailing king, Adonijah rallied his troops. Gathered horsemen and chariots. Conferred with his military advisor. Spoke with Abiathar the priest. Summoned the royal officials. Offered a grand sacrifice of sheep, oxen, and fattened calves. Exalted himself to rule over the people. Celebrated with all his brothers. Everyone except Solomon.
Solomon’s name was conspicuously missing from the guest list. As was that of Nathan the prophet. Neither was invited to share in the celebration or bless the self-appointed king. Why? Because Adonijah knew he had no business engaging in such activities. He clearly knew that Solomon was destined to ascend the throne. Perhaps he’d been told of his father’s promise to Bathsheba. Maybe everyone knew. Perhaps God’s decree that Solomon rule and build His temple had gone out among the people. Or maybe Adonijah had a habit of skulking the palace halls, eavesdropping on conversations not meant for his ears. It really doesn’t matter. He knew his actions were outside the scope of blessing. Apparently, he also thought he wouldn’t get caught. (I Chronicles 28)
Humanity is silly like that. Busy rushing about thinking no one will notice our machinations to get our own way over God’s or our epic tantrums when what we planned is thwarted. The people around us look on and wonder at our antics. Question our motives. And weigh in their hearts if following Jesus is worth it based on the actions and reactions they see from us.
The people of Israel weren’t ignorant of the hullabaloo Adonijah was making. They knew he’d gone to a lot of fuss to convince them he was the logical choice for king. Clearly he believed they would follow along without asking questions or waiting for guidance. He was wrong. They were watching David. They were waiting for his decision. They weren’t going to switch their allegiance until their king gave the signal. Every eye was on David. Watching for his next move. Waiting for his next decree. Everyone except Bathsheba.
She didn’t have time to sit about waiting with bated breath to see if the aged and ailing king would remember his promise. She couldn’t take the chance that he’d breathe his last before he remembered to name her son his successor. She wasn’t in a position to sit and wait and watch. Bathsheba needed action. She needed David to speak up. Their lives depended on David keeping his promise. Without it, they would be deemed offenders, destined for death. Adonijah wasn’t bent toward compassion. He wouldn’t set her up in a little hillside cottage to live out her days. He wouldn’t give her son the opportunity to quietly farm a small plot of land. No. Bathsheba knew what would happen if David didn’t act. She didn’t have time to wait.
Desperation had her acquiescing to the plan Nathan presented. Approaching the king’s sickbed, she outlined in vivid detail the recent happenings in town, the division between his sons, the confusion of the people, the alleged kingship of Adonijah. She didn’t mince words or soft-sell the dire situation outside the confines of his bed chamber. Things were a mess. Out of control. Sick, dying, only partially lucid, it didn’t matter, David needed to do something. Bathsheba was there to make sure he did. In carefully respectful words she issued the reminder David needed to raise him from his rest and set things to rights, “All eyes are on you, waiting to see who you endorse as king.” (I Kings 1:1-21)
There’s something in the desperate words of Bathsheba that should screech our minds to a halt as we read them. Make us read them again. Force us to personalize them. Consider who might be scrutinizing our lives. Stir our hearts to examine every word before it leaves our lips. Rethink every action before it moves our hands. Because nothing has changed from then until now. The eyes of the people are on us. They are watching those who call themselves followers of God. They are waiting to see where our allegiance lies and if it will stay there when tough times come, in the face of trials and troubles, in the throes of persecution. The people around you–family members, friends, co-workers, neighbors–are watching your every move, waiting to see if Jesus is truly your king or if you are embracing an interloper on the throne of your heart. Believe me, they know the difference. (I Timothy 4:16; Colossians 3:1-4, 4:2-6; I Thessalonians 5:11, 13-22)
No matter what faith they claim or eschew, the people watching your life know who is on the throne of your kingdom. It speaks more loudly from actions than words, screaming out of every facial expression, every derisive snort, every compassionate act. What you do for Jesus is so much more impactful than what you say about Him. Why? Because all eyes are on you. Watching. Waiting. Wondering how you will respond to the situations that happen in every person’s life. The disappointments. The surprises. The frustrations. The concerns. All eyes are on you to show them who to choose, who to serve, who to let rule their lives. (Ephesians 5:1-2; John 14:21-24; Luke 6:36; Philippians 2:5-15)
As the anointing oil landed on Solomon’s head, running down his face to trickle off the end of his beard, he must surely have felt the heavy mantle of responsibility fall on his shoulders. The eyes of the people would be on him now. He would have to lead them in righteousness and truth. He would have to steer them to follow God. It was an enormous responsibility. Overwhelming. Unsettling. Heavy. Exactly the same things you should have felt when you read the words of Bathsheba to David and internalized them. All eyes are on you. Your actions. Your words. Your expressions. So live like Jesus. Every day. All day. Act like Jesus. Make your life glorify God and announce to all the onlookers that you have chosen Him to be king of your life. Live in a way that encourages others to crown Him king of their lives too. If everyone is watching, what are they learning from you? (Ephesians 4:22-24, 32; I John 2:6; II Corinthians 5:17; I Kings 1:39, 3:9)