Dear #MeToo from #UsToo:"SILENCED NO MORE" ---Episode 2 "Bathsheba"

In this powerful episode of Silenced No More, we revisit the story of Bathsheba, a woman too often reduced to a moment instead of honored for her full journey.

Bathsheba’s name is frequently tied to scandal—but what if her story is really about survival, resilience, and reclaiming dignity in the face of power and pain?

Through a fresh, compassionate lens, we explore:

•  The untold emotional weight of her experience
  • The dynamics of power, consent, and silence 
  •  Her transformation from a silenced woman to a queen and mother of legacy.
  • This episode gives voice to what Bathsheba may have felt but never had the chance to say. It invites us to reconsider what we’ve been taught—and to recognize the strength it takes to rise when your story has been spoken for you.
    Her silence ends here.
    Because every woman’s story deserves to be heard.
    If you want, I can also write a matching intro script, social media caption, or a short monologue in Bathsheba’s voice for your episode.

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:00

Hello, and welcome back to Silence No More with your host, Reverend Dr. Mary J. Fairley. In our last episode, we sat with Hagar, a slave Egyptian woman whose body was treated as a tool, whose feelings were dismissed, and yet who encountered a god who saw her in her most desperate moments. Today, we meet another woman whose story has been told for centuries, but rarely from her perspective. She is often remembered as the woman David saw bathing on the rooftop. She's been labeled an adulteress, but when we slow down and read the text carefully, we find a woman who was summoned by the most powerful man in the kingdom. A woman who had no ability to refuse. A woman whose silence was buried beneath the weight of a king's reputation. Her name is Bathsheba. And today she finally gets to speak. Let's first hear the scripture from which her story is drawn. 2 Samuel chapter 11. It happened in the spring of the year at the time when kings go out to battle, that David sent Joab and his servants with him and all Israel, and they destroyed the people of Amman and besieged Bababa. But David remained at Jerusalem. Then it happened one evening that David arose from his bed and walked on the roof of the king's house. And from the roofs he saw a woman bathing. And the woman was very beautiful to behold. So David sat and inquired about the woman. And someone said, Isn't this not Bathsheba, the daughter of Iliam, the wife of Uriah the Hittite? Then David sent messengers and took her, and she came to him. He lay with her, for she was cleansed from her impurity, and she returned to her house. And the woman conceived. So she sent and told David and said, I am with child. 2 Kings 11, 14 through 17 reads, And in the morning it happened that David wrote a letter to Joab and sent it by the hand of Uriah. And he wrote in the letter, saying, Set Uriah in the forefront of the hottest battle, and retreat from him that he may be struck down and die. And so it was while Joab besieged the city that he assigned to Uriah to a place where he knew there were valiant men. And then the men of the city came and fought with Joab, and some of the people of the servants of David fell, and Uriah the Hittite died also. Dear hashtag me too. All the able bodied men, including my husband Uriah, were away in battle. The day had been exceptionally hot. Even as the sun was about to set, the heat of the day lingered. I went out on the roof of my adobe house where the water pots of water warmed, awaited me, as I prepared to complete my cleansing ritual following the completion of monthly bleeding. The shadows were elongated as dusk came. I could take my time and enjoy a leisurely watch. My husband Uriah would not be returning for several more days, if even then, he was one of King David's officers. My father and my husband had fought alongside the king before he had even been crowned. They served him as he was on the run in the wilderness from King Saul. My grandfather had been the king's chief advisor in many of the battles they engaged. For we were married, Uriah served with my father as king. David even was in battle against the cities of Ammon and Rabah. My grandfather and husband were, one could say, knights of the king's round table. My husband was a Hittittite, but converted to Judaism under the influence and instruction of his spiritual shepherd David. I was just a toddler when King Uncle was officially crowned. I had grown up in a lot of him. I had often heard my grandfather and father praise and extol him. I had once even heard him referred to as a man after God's own heart. As I began to blossom into a young woman, my father arranged for my marriage to Uriah with the approval of the king. After cleansing, I turned to my rooms, which were draped in pink and burgundy flowing Egyptian linens, and I was about to put on my sleeping gown. The warm air of the spring blowing through my window caressed my body still wet from my baths. I called for my maid and instructed her to ask the servants to bring dinner to my room. My maid had just finished taking down and combing my hair when a servant knocked on my room door. I was famished and glad that they were finally bringing my evening meal. I called to them to enter in, but was disappointed and a bit worried to see a messenger instead. He hurried to where I was sitting and told me that I was being summoned to the palace of the king. Puzzled and a bit fearful, I thanked the guard. My maid found me something appropriate to wear to the palace, and I began to quickly dress. Forgetting about my hunger pains, mine began to race. Who was sending for me from the palace? Everyone had gone to bed. Had something happened to you, Robin? Had he been injured? Had he, oh Jehovah God, been killed? He was only nine years junior to the king, who himself was 49. We had got married just as I was entering womanhood. Shet had no children. It was something which really concerned me, but Uriah would just try, just wait until I'm really able to be home. The babies, he would chuckle. We'll come. Check my handheld glass reflection and called for my handmaid to escort me to the palace, which was only a few steps away. When I arrived in the throne room, except for a few guards, it was empty. A servant hurriedly rushed in and asked me to follow him, while in the same breath instructing my handmaid to remain and be seated on one of the purple and ghost cupboard cushions, which were scattered along the walls. Anxious and afraid for the life of my beloved husband, while wondering, I someone may have scared me. I hesitantly bowed the servant through the corridors, the two towering heavy wood and gold embellished doors, guarded by eunuchs, dressed in black turbans and red silk ballooning pants, their brown skin blistling as their long swords swaggered from their sides. The eunuch stepped aside at my ride, and as they opened the heavy wood doors, my escorts disappeared. I stood at the entrance, not knowing where to go or what to do, hoping to prolong having to hear bad news. Someone spoke words of welcome, begging me to come and recall at one of the chase like sofas. The voice was powerful. It sounded so familiar at the same time. Was it Was this the king's chambers? I only took in my surroundings and the opulence caused me to be overcome with fear. Why would the king need to speak to me? Could things be worse than I thought? Maybe my husband had been captured by enemy soldiers and I would never see him again. I wondered was the king even here? Shouldn't he be with his men, leading them in battle? Maybe he had been injured. Why would he need to see me? Surely one of his many wives and numerous servants could assist in any injuries he may have incurred. The lighting was dim, making it difficult to say. I took a deep breath and exhaled and walked quickly toward the direction of the voice. His second welcome sounded light and cheery. As I moved closer and was able to focus, I could clearly see that this was the king's private chambers. And there he was, tall and confident of himself, just as I remember. He was in his dressing gown, reclining on a sofa covered with several yards of linen and silk and an array of colors which hid his bed. My fearful look caused him to come near me. Everything's all right, he spoke ever so gently. There's no bad news, he assured me, reading my mind. Your husband is alive and well. He summoned me to come near. He told me he had not so long ago returned from battle, and my husband had asked him to look in on me. The king surely had to have heard my loud sigh of relief as I almost fell down on one of the small sofas near the king's own larger one. After all, he was like an uncle to me. No need for any more pretense. My fierce anxiety melted away. A table nearby, teeming with food and wine, was a welcome offer and a much tastier feast than my cook could prepare. I made a mental note to be sure to have her come over and find out how to prepare some of these delicacies, as well as the names of some of the spices which they used. I relaxed and became comfortable. As the evening wore on, the king and I the tasty delicacies and drank the wine that seemed to be endless. We laughed and talked and reminisced. He shared funny war stories, and I took ills of my days as a young girl in my father's sheep herds. And as I got older, the variety of suitors who sought to make me their wife. Both of us were full, and I was feeling a little bit bite-headed from the wine I had drink. I decided it was time I should leave. I had been there for what hour? I had lost track of time. As I got up and began to give my thanks for the meal and the fun time we had, summoned his servant and whispered in his ear, I assumed he was sending for my handmaid. So I got up. But to my chagrin, I tottered and almost fell, say the king had quickly come to my air and saved me before I hit the floor. His hand awkwardly caught me by my breast. He held it and the rest of me in his other arm. Getting my berries, I weakly pushed him away. To my surprise, he pulled me to him and kissed my neck. He began to say how beautiful I was, how sweet I tasted. I was appalled and taken aback. Surely the king couldn't be thinking about laying with me. I pushed him away more forcefully this time. But he became even more forceful as well and grabbed me, putting his mouth over mine. We had both too much strength, I realized. The king surely could not mean to do what he was intimidating. I'm so much younger than him, and like his niece, I rationalize. I began to become upset as I thought about the fact that my father and grandfather were his longtime friends. Yet he was determined to have me. I was quite profoundly by now. I began to scream, no, this is wrong. No, we can't do this. No one heard or dared to come to my aid. Before long, I stopped fighting. From the wine and overcome by his physical strength, the king tore away at my clothes and I just laid there still whimpering. His mouth went over every part of my body. He penetrated me and was somewhat gentle until the end. He carried me and placed me back on the couch I had been planning on earlier. And shortly after he came to where I was and he had his way with me again. My protests were muffled by his hand over my mouth as he took me repeatedly. We gotta be together again, he told me. It would be our secret, he told me. And it wasn't until the wee hours of the morning that I was finally allowed to leave. Wasn't this great? Didn't you enjoy this? Being together. I was not to tell anyone. It would be just between us. No one need ever know. He was the king. And I was to come back. He would send for me again. He was the king. I would continue to come to the palace. He was the king. I would have my own room in the king's palace. I would wear the finest clothes and eat at the king's table as a guest. King told me until the return of my husband. Uriah sat in battle longer than I expected. I suppose that was at the king's orders. And our sacred it appeared remained. Like many victims of sexual abuse, I even began to find pleasure in our times together. The months and the many gifts the king gave me caused me to sometimes even forget about my husband and the fact that I had broken my marriage vows. I went along with our telling myself they were over when my husband finally returned. I missed my cycle for two months. I was with child. And when I told the king, we both knew without any doubt that the baby in my belly was his. The king said I was to go back home and set things in order, and he would send for my husband to come home for a time of rest to spend time with me, his wife. And then everyone would know that he was the father of the child. In a few days, Uriah returned home. He was so happy, and so was I. I could go back being his wife. I put aside my guilt as best I could and welcomed him with kisses of joy. He reciprocated and looked forward to our time together. I put on a sleeping gown I had been saving to wear on his return. But I was hurt and disappointed when I learned that instead of coming to our bed, my husband would be sleeping outside the door of our home. And he did this for the two weeks he was on leave. As a soldier, he reminded me, he was not allowed to engage in intimate relations, even with his wife. I did all I could to convince him otherwise, but to no avail. He returned to battle with only the memory of my kisses to go with him. When I was summoned to the palace again, I told the king what had not occurred. He was furious. How could I have let this happen? He blamed me. What are we gonna do now? I began to cry, and because I believe he may have really fallen in love with me, he began to console me. He said he would come up with another plan that everything would be all right. Ironically, my husband was killed in battle. The child that was born later became ill and died also. The two things that I had most desired were taken from me. I mourned for several months as I blamed myself for these tragedies and could not be consoled. The king made me his first wife, became pregnant a second time. I gave birth to another beautiful son, and the king promised me that this son would one day inherit his throne. Not only did our son Solomon become king, he also became known as the wisest man to ever live. Yours faithfully, thus too, Bathsheba. P.S. My vindication came several generations, generations later, with the birth of God's only begotten son, as is recorded in the New Testament of the Bible. The son of David, the son of Abraham, and Jesse begat David the king, and David the king begat Solomon of her that had been the wife of Urias. The summons that cannot be refused, the powerful man who calls it desire when she calls it survival, the silence required afterwards, the blame assigned to her body simply because it was seen. Scripture does not call what David did, it calls it displeasure in the eyes of the Lord. God saw, God named it, even when no one else did. If Bathsheba's letter resonated with you today, if her words felt familiar in ways you have never been able to name, know that you are not alone. You are seen, and you are to be believed. If you would like to send a message, please do so in the comment section below. Or you can email me at dearme2us2 at gmail.com. Please rate and review this podcast so that others who need to hear these stories can find them. Please plan to join me next week for another episode of Silence No More. Until then, shalom.