Given the detached, matter-of-fact language of Old Testament scripture, it's easy to overlook the humanity of the individuals in the stories. We are so quick to derive morals and explanations from the text that we skip some of the most important elements of Torah. As the sage Nachmanides encouraged, it is essential to interpret not just the law of Torah, but the heart as well. In the telling and re-telling of King David's rise and fall, his inexplicably selfish pursuit of Bath-Sheba (or Bat Sheva as the Hebrew reads) is a favorite passage. It is often taught as a moment of weakness, hubris or outright corruption, but there's so much more to it than that. While David's seduction of Bath-Sheba and the indirect killing of her husband are indeed David's greatest sins, they don't come out of nowhere. In fact, looking at David's entire history, such an episode seems practically inevitable.
Ever since he was very young, David had a habit of losing himself in ill-advised romances and friendships. He took several wives he probably should have left alone, such as the the former wife of the treacherous Naval, or Saul's daughter Michal. He also more than once entered into partnerships with the sons of his enemies, first with Jonathan and then with the son of a Philistine king. David's greatest weakness, perhaps his only weakness, is his desire to be loved by all of the wrong people.
Without fail, all of David's dangerous, complicated relationships lead to tragedy and disappointment. Whether it's an immediate problem or the seeds of something awful many years down the line, David's troubled social life leads to death, destruction and very nearly the end of his kingdom. In the tenth chapter of Second Samuel, we get a fitting precursor to the state of mind that drove David to pursue Bath-Sheba. When the Ammonite King Nahash, an old friend of David's, passes away, David sends emissaries to convey condolences and support for Hanun, the new king. Being ambitious and paranoid, Hanun decides that David's messengers are actually spies, so he humiliates them as a gesture of hostility. Before long, the Ammonites ally themselves with some of the lesser enemies of David's throne and they wage war against Judah.
As every one of David's military conflicts before it, the war with the Ammonites goes in David's favor, his reputation and battle prowess pushing the invading nations back. From the outside, this may look like just another victory for the great soldier king, but there's more tragedy here than the text overtly expresses. David isn't just fighting another enemy, he's being forced to kill his friends and the sons of his friends. As with the Philistines early in his reign, David faces betrayal and the dissolve of yet more human connections. He can't even send good wishes to friends anymore without his political station tainting the affair.
So, when David sees Bath-Sheba bathing on her roof, it doesn't seem so random and out of character for him to take her so crassly and send her husband to his death in battle. The David we have in chapter eleven of Second Samuel is a man who has spent the better part of his life being abandoned, betrayed and assaulted by even the best of his friends. Is it really so hard to believe that he would become jaded and misanthropic? The truth is that Uriah, Bath-Sheba's husband, is a lot like David was in his younger years. He's noble, honest and acutely aware of propriety. For David to doom him is as much an attack on his younger, happier self as it is a convenient way to oust the husband of his latest crush.
David's sin is not just his adultery and his condemnation of Uriah, but the abandonment of the hope he exhibited as a youth. This will lead to his downfall, but perhaps that was on purpose. In chapter eleven, David's disconnection from his humanity is made complete, and thus his ability to be an effective leader.