Unraveled: Rizpah Mourns Her Sons

Now Saul had a secondary wife named Rizpah, Aiah’s daughter. Ishbosheth said to Abner, “Why have you had sex with my father’s secondary wife?” 

There was a famine for three years in a row during David’s rule. David asked the Lord about this, and the Lord said, “It is caused by Saul and his household, who are guilty of bloodshed because he killed the people of Gibeon.” So the king called for the Gibeonites and spoke to them.

(Now the Gibeonites weren’t Israelites but were survivors of the Amorites. The Israelites had sworn a solemn pledge to spare them, but Saul tried to eliminate them in his enthusiasm for the people of Israel and Judah.)

David said to the Gibeonites, “What can I do for you? How can I fix matters so you can benefit from the Lord’s inheritance?”

The Gibeonites said to him, “We don’t want any silver or gold from Saul or his family, and it isn’t our right to have anyone in Israel killed.”

“What do you want?” David asked. “I’ll do it for you.”

“Okay then,” they said to the king. “That man who opposed and oppressed us, who planned to destroy us, keeping us from having a place to live anywhere in Israel— hand over seven of his sons to us, and we will hang them before the Lord at Gibeon on the Lord’s mountain.”

“I will hand them over,” the king said.

But the king spared Mephibosheth, Jonathan’s son and Saul’s grandson, because of the Lord’s solemn pledge that was between them—between David and Saul’s son Jonathan. So the king took the two sons of Aiah’s daughter Rizpah, Armoni and Mephibosheth, whom she had birthed for Saul; and the five sons of Saul’s daughter Merab, whom she birthed for Adriel, Barzillai’s son, who was from Meholah, and he handed them over to the Gibeonites. They hanged them on the mountain before the Lord. The seven of them died at the same time. They were executed in the first days of the harvest, at the beginning of the barley harvest.

Aiah’s daughter Rizpah took funeral clothing and spread it out by herself on a rock. She stayed there from the beginning of the harvest until the rains poured down on the bodies from the sky, and she wouldn’t let any birds of prey land on the bodies during the day or let wild animals come at nighttime. When David was told what Aiah’s daughter Rizpah, Saul’s secondary wife, had done, he went and retrieved the bones of Saul and his son Jonathan from the citizens of Jabesh-gilead, who had stolen the bones from the public square in Beth-shan, where the Philistines had hanged them on the day the Philistines killed Saul at Gilboa. David brought the bones of Saul and his son Jonathan from there and collected the bones of the men who had been hanged by the Gibeonites. The bones of Saul and his son Jonathan were then buried in Zela, in Benjaminite territory, in the tomb of Saul’s father Kish. Once everything the king had commanded was done, God responded to prayers for the land. --2 Samuel 3:7; 21:1-14

Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

I want to begin this morning with an acknowledgment. This is a hard and horrible story. It is the story of Rizpah - a woman, a wife, and a mother - whose two sons, along with five other men, sons of another woman, wife and mother, are executed by the state. Their bodies and lives given as blood-sacrifices. 

It is a hard and horrible story, this story of Rizpah, particularly for us on this day, as we prepare to celebrate Independence Day in our nation. But, perhaps, this year, it is a timely story, difficult as it may be. A reminder of what real freedom and true patriotism is.

To fully understand the context of this story, we need to back up just a bit. We are in the days of the early monarchy in Israel. Saul, Israel’s first king, has become disfavored by God, who has anointed David to replace him. Throughout much of the first book of Samuel, they are at war with each other - King Saul fighting to hold onto his reign against David, one who had been beloved by him, who had even married Saul’s daughter. This is a war between a father and a son-in-law. By the end of first Samuel, Saul is dead. Killed in battle. So, too, is Jonathan, his son - David’s best friend. This family fight has been devastating, resulting in a kind of hunger for blood on all sides. 

We first hear of Rizpah in chapter three, the first verse of today’s reading. We learn that she is Saul’s concubine, most likely considered a second tier wife of Saul. Like Hagar and Abraham. 

As the story continues a famine has struck the land. David seeks an answer from God about the reason for this famine. He hears that it is because of a covenant broken by Saul - a covenant made with Israel and the Gideonites, remnants of the Canaanite people, whom Israel had promised not to harm. Saul, in his zeal to preserve his throne, has killed many of them. David, now Israel’s king, is dealing with the consequences of this broken promise. 

He goes to the Gideonites. (Notice that God does not tell him to go to the Gideonites.) David asks what kind of blood-sacrifice they will require to end the famine. They tell him that neither gold nor silver will compensate for these unjust deaths. They also tell David that they cannot legally ask for anyone in Israel to be killed to compensate. So, David gives them what they cannot do. He hands over seven of Saul’s sons to be executed. 

But, he does not hand over sons from Saul’s first tier wife. Instead he takes two sons from Rizpah, Saul’s concubine. And five sons from Merab, Saul’s daughter. Thus, Saul’s grandsons. He gives them over to the Gideonites and all seven are executed. 

Do you notice that after this happens, after this blood sacrifice is complete, God does not end the famine? Is it possible this was not God’s desire That this was not how God envisioned Israel might be freed from famine? 

It’s important to note that, if we read this text carefully, nowhere does God tell David to do what he does, even though the text hints at this as justification. I’ve mentioned using a hermeneutic of suspicion before. This is a framework for reading scripture that challenges any notion that any violence or harm or atrocity that is done in God's name is actually demanded by God. The hermeneutic of suspicion challenges these notions with an understanding that, rather than God making such demands, it is, as transcribed by human narrators, the human desire for power and control that actually underlies those atrocities in Scripture. 

David does not ask God what to do. And God does not - here - tell David to hand over these sons and grandsons of Saul. In fact, one could argue - and many theologians do - that this was intentionally done by David - not to end the famine, but to ensure his reign and to eliminate any potential threat or claim to the throne by any of Saul’s remaining heirs.  

Whatever the motivation, however, the end result is that the sons of Rizpah and Merab are executed. Even worse, their bodies are left to hang in the public square, to rot, and to be eaten by animals. Like garbage.

None of God’s children are garbage. And Rispah’s devotion to her sons will not allow them to be dishonored in this way. She pitches a tent by their bodies. And from the beginning of harvest until the rains begin, she fights with scavengers night and day.  For six months she is there - sleeping, eating, toileting, protecting, bearing witness. Bearing public witness to the atrocity that has befallen her sons. 

How many women have we seen bear this same public witness in our lifetimes? Immediately, the mother of Emmet Till comes to mind. Or the mother of Matthew Sheppard. What about the mothers of the children killed the very next year at Columbine, some 23 years ago? Or the first and second graders gunned down at Sandy Hook? Or the mothers of the high school students at Stoneman Douglas? Or what of the mothers of all those whose lynchings are commemorated at the National Memorial for Peace and Justice in Montgomery, AL? Or the mothers of those killed in the racially-motivated shooting in Buffalo? Or what of the mothers of the third and fourth graders in Uvalde, TX? Or the mothers of the five immigrant children left to suffocate to death in a refrigerator truck in the outskirts of San Antonio? All because leaders of our country fail (or refuse) to act. Over and over and in this country - in our world - mothers, like Rizpah, bear public witness to the results of our human lust for power and money. Like Rizpah, the unraveling of their lives and their families leads to public grief that leads to activism. Activism that calls out our government. That calls out our leaders. That calls us out.

That, my friends, is true patriotism. Holding us all to account - to repent. Just as David was finally called to repentance and then to act - to bury, not only the bodies of the sons of Rizpah and Merab, but also the bodies of Saul and Jonathan, which he had left behind. Buried together in the royal tomb of Saul's family. Once he did, it was then that God ended the famine.

There are few clergy who have preached on this story. And for good reason. But there is one clergy woman who has preached on this story. Womanist theologian Wilma Gafney writes this: 

Some of you may be asking, “Where is God in Rizpah’s story?” God was right there with Rizpah weeping a mother’s tears. God was with her sons exhaling their last tortured breaths on crosses not of their own making. God was with the hungry and thirsty earth and her desperate dying creatures. God was with the Gibeonites in their righteous rage and grief. God was even with David though perhaps not in the way the authors would always have us think. Wherever you look, God is there. Wherever you see yourself in this story, God is there. Present, accompanying, never abandoning us to our sorrow and grief and the worst the world can do or the worst that we do.

She continues: 

Whether Rizpah’s gospel is good news for you depends on where and with whom you stand. Where do you stand church? Where do you stand when the victims of sexual violence are in the church and so are the perpetrators? Where do you stand when the justice system works for you but not your neighbor or her sons? Do you stand with the legally lynched and corruptly crucified? Where do you stand? Where do you stand when some folk are declared disposable because what side of the man-made border imposed on stolen land they come from? Where do you stand when women are being forced into Iron Age reproductive slavery like Hagar and Bilhah and Zilpah, denied the right to make decisions about their bodies, their reproductive health. Where do you stand when folk are calling the truth a lie and a lie the truth? Where do you stand?

I know where Jesus would stand. He stood with the women with bad sexual reputations, the women who were used by men and left [behind in shame….] He stood against a crooked and corrupt government without concern for the cost. He stood with the dying and the dead…He stood in such solidarity with the dying that he died himself. And in his dying he destroyed death and took away its power. Petty kings and would-be kings might say “death.” But Jesus says “Life!” He cried out “Life” from the grave. And when he came back to stand again with the living and the dying, Jesus chose a woman very much like Rizpah to be the first preacher of his gospel and the apostle to the apostles. Jesus stands with us in life and in death - his and ours - as Rizpah stood with her sons in their bloody vicious deaths. 

Where do you stand church? Don’t tell me. Show me.... Amen.

Preached July 3, 2022, at Grace & Glory Lutheran, Goshen, with Third Lutheran, Louisville.

Fourth Sunday after Pentecost

Readings: 2 Samuel 3:7, 21:1-14; Psalm 86:8-17

Called by God: Hard to Hear

Now the boy Samuel was ministering to the Lord under Eli. The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread.

At that time Eli, whose eyesight had begun to grow dim so that he could not see, was lying down in his room; the lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the temple of the Lord, where the ark of God was. Then the Lord called, “Samuel! Samuel!” and he said, “Here I am!” and ran to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call; lie down again.” So he went and lay down. The Lord called again, “Samuel!” Samuel got up and went to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call, my son; lie down again.” Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord, and the word of the Lord had not yet been revealed to him. The Lord called Samuel again, a third time. And he got up and went to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” Then Eli perceived that the Lord was calling the boy. Therefore Eli said to Samuel, “Go, lie down; and if he calls you, you shall say, ‘Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.’” So Samuel went and lay down in his place.

Now the Lord came and stood there, calling as before, “Samuel! Samuel!” And Samuel said, “Speak, for your servant is listening.” Then the Lord said to Samuel, “See, I am about to do something in Israel that will make both ears of anyone who hears of it tingle. On that day I will fulfill against Eli all that I have spoken concerning his house, from beginning to end. For I have told him that I am about to punish his house forever, for the iniquity that he knew, because his sons were blaspheming God, and he did not restrain them. Therefore I swear to the house of Eli that the iniquity of Eli’s house shall not be expiated by sacrifice or offering forever.”

Samuel lay there until morning; then he opened the doors of the house of the Lord. Samuel was afraid to tell the vision to Eli. But Eli called Samuel and said, “Samuel, my son.” He said, “Here I am.” Eli said, “What was it that he told you? Do not hide it from me. May God do so to you and more also, if you hide anything from me of all that he told you.” So Samuel told him everything and hid nothing from him. Then he said, “It is the Lord; let him do what seems good to him.”

As Samuel grew up, the Lord was with him and let none of his words fall to the ground. And all Israel from Dan to Beer-sheba knew that Samuel was a trustworthy prophet of the Lord. The Lord continued to appear at Shiloh, for the Lord revealed himself to Samuel at Shiloh by the word of the Lord. --1 Samuel 3:1-21 (NRSV)

Grace, mercy and peace to you from God, our Creator, our Redeemer, our Sustainer. Amen.

It’s hard to hear God sometimes, isn’t it? Like Samuel, it’s hard to really hear God, isn’t it? We live in a world that is so full of noise, perhaps even more noise now than before the pandemic began. 

There was a time in the middle of these past many months when things quieted down. During the lockdown in the spring of last year. It felt, at least for some of us that things slowed down just a bit. Were a little less hectic. A time when we were just a little less busy. When we, perhaps, even had time to hear one another. I wonder if that’s why George Floyd’s death became such a turning point for us - because we were all listening. And seeing. And horrified by those 9 minutes of video. 

Yet, doesn’t it feel as though we are slipping so easily back into our old ways. Our old patterns. Perhaps even some of the things we vowed never to return to. The appointments that have us running from one thing to the next. Our work lives, or our retirement lives, that seem to be even busier than ever. When all of that time of listening to one another seems to have, once again, just fallen by the wayside.

I’ve been really stressed out this week, can you tell? There are a lot of reasons. It’s always hard to be away - it seems like the work is doubled up before leaving and doubled up on return. Then, to add to it, I signed up for a doctoral program in the midst of the pandemic. I’m wondering now why y’all of you didn’t step in and stop me from this nonsense.

But, honestly, what did we learn from the pandemic? Or did we learn anything from the pandemic? Did we learn anything about slowing down to listen? To ourselves? To one another? To God?

Listening is at the core of our text today in first Samuel - part of what is called the Deuteronomic history of Israel (say that five times fast). Walter Brueggemann describes this history as the story of Israel’s entry into the Promised Land, beginning in Joshua, through to the story of Israel’s loss of the Promised Land, ending in the book of Kings. We’ve taken a big jump from last week’s reading in the wilderness. Israel’s now entered that Promised Land and organized itself as a tribal nation - divided up into the twelve tribes, each governed by their own leadership. Our story today is in a time of transition from this tribal way of life into that of a monarchy, with only one king as leader. The book of Judges, which precedes First Samuel, ends with these words, “In those days there was no king in Israel; all the people did what was right in their own eyes.” It’s an ominous foreshadowing for the beginning of today’s reading, which opens with these words: “The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread.” 

Was God’s Word rare because God wasn’t speaking? Or was, perhaps, God’s word rare because people weren’t listening? Because their lives were so filled by the noise of everyday life and busy-ness and other stuff that they simply couldn’t hear?

Eli - the high priest of God’s sacred tent in our story today - knew what God would ask Samuel to tell him. His sons were evil. Taking the temple sacrifice by force. And, depending on the translation, even raping women at the sanctuary door. Their sins were against God in God’s house. When we read this, it’s hard not to think of all of the stories of clergy abuse that have come to light over these past many years. Eli - like so many others in church leadership in our day - Eli knew his sons were evil. He’d been warned to stop them. But had done nothing. He’d closed his ears to God’s Word. His physical blindness mentioned in our story is nothing compared to his spiritual blindness. Eli isn’t listening. He isn’t seeing. And neither is anyone else. 

So it takes three times. Three calls from God to the young boy Samuel before Eli even recognizes what’s up. Before he is ready to hear and to encourage Samuel to listen. Speak Lord, for your servant is listening, Samuel finally says to God.

Are we listening? Are we prepared to hear what God might be calling us to? Not only in our own lives, but in the church and in our broader world? Are we, perhaps, being called into a new way of being - a new way that, like Samuel’s call, isn’t always easy? A new way that may require some hard conversations? Some hard discernment on our part? Some listening in the midst of the noise of our lives?

We have an opportunity in this moment. An opportunity to not return to that old way of life - that way of life, filled with so much noise that it blocks out the very voice and call of God. God is calling us out of the death of our former lives and into a resurrected and new way of life. A life that gives us the space to hear God’s voice and to live out our calling, as individuals regardless of age or experience, and as a church, in this new place and new way of being. A calling that proclaims to the whole world the amazing good news of life gifted to us by God in grace.

May we be open to this new way of life. And, like young Samuel, declare,” Speak Lord. For your servants are listening.” Amen.

Preached October 17, 2021, at Grace & Glory, Prospect, and Third, Louisville.

Pentecost 21

Readings: 1 Samuel 3:1-21; John 20:21-23

Living Faithfully in the Promise: Confronting Sin

So the Lord sent Nathan to David. When Nathan arrived he said, “There were two men in the same city, one rich, one poor. The rich man had a lot of sheep and cattle, but the poor man had nothing—just one small ewe lamb that he had bought. He raised that lamb, and it grew up with him and his children. It would eat from his food and drink from his cup—even sleep in his arms! It was like a daughter to him.

“Now a traveler came to visit the rich man, but he wasn’t willing to take anything from his own flock or herd to prepare for the guest who had arrived. Instead, he took the poor man’s ewe lamb and prepared it for the visitor.”

David got very angry at the man, and he said to Nathan, “As surely as the Lord lives, the one who did this is demonic! He must restore the ewe lamb seven times over because he did this and because he had no compassion.”

“You are that man!” Nathan told David. “This is what the Lord God of Israel says: I anointed you king over Israel and delivered you from Saul’s power. I gave your master’s house to you, and gave his wives into your embrace. I gave you the house of Israel and Judah. If that was too little, I would have given even more. Why have you despised the Lord’s word by doing what is evil in his eyes? You have struck down Uriah the Hittite with the sword and taken his wife as your own. You used the Ammonites to kill him. 2 Samuel 12:1-9 (CEB)

Grace and peace to you from God, our Liberator, and from Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord. Amen.

Second Samuel. This is where this week’s story is from. Samuel is an exciting book in the Bible. It’s split into two parts because of its large size. The book of First Samuel focuses on the characters Samuel, Saul, and David and their roles in shaping God’s growing nation of Israel. Second Samuel focuses almost entirely on David. 

Today, I’m going to ask for your help in preaching this sermon. After I give you some background to bring us from last week to today, I’m going to jog your memories. And find out from you what you remember about David. 

So, last week, we heard Joshua recount for Israel all that God had done for them during the exodus from Egypt. We also heard Joshua renew the Sinai covenant with them - the agreement that  Moses and Israel made with God at Mount Sinai. That Israel would be God’s people and that God would protect and bless them, making them into God’s chosen people. 

At the end of the reading, Joshua dispersed the 12 tribes of Israel to their respective areas. In between the book of Joshua and Samuel in the Old Testament (or Hebrew scriptures) is the book of Judges. This book tells a story we’ve heard before. A story of Israel’s total failure after the death of Joshua. 

The judges in this book were tribal chieftains. Their story is very disturbing. It serves as a tragic tale of how Israel’s leaders become increasingly corrupt. No better than the Canaanite tribes they had overthrown. Yet, as we so often see, this story of the judges, though it is sad, is still a story of hope for the future. It shows us the vicious cycle of apostasy. (That’s a big word. Does anyone know what it means? In our context, it’s when one person or a group of people abandon or renounce their religious beliefs.) What we see in Judges is what we’ve heard before in previous readings from the Old Testament. A person or a group of people abandon God, become oppressors, and then, on repentance, are once again delivered by God.

The book of Judges ends with the apostasy of Israel with these words in Joshua 21:25, “In those days, Israel had no king; all the people did whatever seemed right in their own eyes.” It is here where the book of Samuel picks up. First Samuel opens with Hannah, a woman who - similar to other women we’ve heard about - Hannah is barren. She prays to God. God answers her anguished prayers for a son, whom she dedicates to God’s service. This son is Samuel. 

He grow wise. And becomes Israel’s judge and leading prophet. A neighboring people - the Philistines - become a challenge for Israel. Israel insists that Samuel give them a king, like the other nations. Although this does not please Samuel, he asks God. And God gives Israel their first king. King Saul. And, once again, Saul becomes proud and disobeys God, who eventually tears Israel away from him and gives it to someone else. Saul slowly descends into madness and eventually dies.

But, it is under the reign of Saul, where we first hear of David. And, so, now it’s your turn to help me. What do you remember about David? [Son of Jesse, anointed by Samuel under Saul’s reign when he was a young shepherd. Defeats Goliath and becomes Saul’s assistant. Eventually becomes Saul’s enemy when Saul finds out David has been anointed as the next king. Hunted by Saul. Eventually becomes king of Judah and then of Israel (combined kingdom). Captures Jerusalem and makes it Israel’s capital. Desires to build God a house, instead God promises David an eternal royal house that will come from his descendants (Davidic covenant). Commits terrible sins (Bathsheba, Uriah). But damage is done: a future of family strife embroiled in politics, rebellion and death begins.]

The story of David and Bathsheba is in Second Samuel, Chapter 11. It’s the chapter just before today’s reading. Up until this point, David has been a good king. And a successful king. First of Judah, and then of Israel. David has restored the kingdom of Israel that had become divided under King Saul. He has also been a successful warrior, leading his soldiers in battle again neighboring tribes. And restoring Jerusalem, which had been captured under his predecessor. In one of the most important acts in his reign, David had restored the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem. This had made his reign and his control over Israel complete.

But, as we know, power tends to corrupt. And, in the famous 19th century words of Lord Acton, “absolute power corrupts absolutely.” It corrupts because it creates a sense of entitlement. It happens frequently. And it’s what happened to David.

One day, as David’s soldiers are at the front fighting the Ammonites, which is where he should have been, David remains at the palace in Jerusalem. Now, it’s important to understand that the palace was situated on the highest place in the city. And, so, as David would walk on the palace balcony, he would have a bird’s eye view of many of the balconies in the city. Wealthy people in the ancient world used their roofs to cool off in the summer. The roofs were usually flat and festooned with makeshift tents to shield from the sun. When it was hot, people ate on their balconies and also slept there, too. And, as we know from the story of David and Bathsheba, they bathed on them, as well.

So, on that day, as David is strolling his balcony, he sees a beautiful woman bathing. A woman named Bathsheba. David sent someone to inquire about her and found out that she was the wife of Uriah. David, then, Scripture reads, “sent messengers to take her.”

Now there has been much written about Bathsheba. And about how she deliberately did this to entice David. And, yet, the Bible is silent on her motivation. It is not, however, silent on David’s motivation. And I could begin a diatribe here related to the #metoo movement, but I think you get the drift of how women have been treated under patriarchal systems. Scripture says that David sent messengers to “take her.” Who was she to refuse the demands of the king? Especially the demands of a king as powerful as David?

And, so, she went. And, you know the rest of the story. When Bathsheba become pregnant, David cold-bloodedly arranged to have Uriah, her husband, placed at the front of the battle, all but ensuring that he would be killed. And he was. 

This happens frequently. One sin leads to another sin. And then a more serious sin. And, on it goes. It’s one of the reasons there are two commandments about coveting. Because God knows that the simple and seemingly innocent act of coveting can lead to more and more serious sin. Just as with David in chapter 11. A chapter that ends with these words, “But what David had done was evil in the Lord’s eyes.”

And, so, God sent Nathan to David. Now Nathan was a prophet and an adviser to King David. One can only wonder what Nathan was thinking the night before he went to confront David. Was he reluctant? Did Nathan argue with God? Did he argue,“God, if I speak plainly to David, he’ll kill me. I’ll never get away with it.”  And, yet, Nathan came up with a brilliant plan. To tell David a story. The story of a certain man - a poor man - who had a lamb that he cherished. The he cared for in his own house. And that he treated as his own child. There was another man, a wealthy man, who had many livestock. When a visitor came to the wealthy man, rather than part with his own property, he stole the poor man’s lamb, slaughtered it, and made a feast.

It was a brilliant move by Nathan. He knew that, when David heard this, it would make him angry. Which is exactly what happened. It was then that Nathan said to David, “YOU are that wealthy man.” Immediately, David recognized the truth. How his power had corrupted him. And how he had sinned. Not only against Bathsheba and Uriah. But, in David’s own words, “I have sinned against the Lord.”

Over the past couple of weeks, we have been learning how we are to live faithfully in God’s promise. One of the most important aspects of that living faithfully is being here in community with each other. Because it is here, in this place, where week after week we are confronted by each other and by God with our sin. And where, like David, we ask for forgiveness in words like or similar to those written by him in Psalm 51. It is here, each week, that we come face to face with our sin and our brokenness. 

But, it doesn’t end with our confession. It didn’t with David either. And even though he did not escape the consequences of his sins, God forgave him. And, then, made a covenant with David that from his line would come an eternal king. A king who would free all people. And us. From our sin. Jesus Christ. Our Savior and Lord.

Because that’s who God is. Always turning that vicious cycle of apostasy upside down. To bring deliverance. 

Thanks be to God! Amen.

Preached October 21, 2018, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Pentecost 22
Readings: Matt. 21:33-41; 2 Samuel 12:1-19; Psalm 51:1-10

Keeping Up Appearances

The Lord said to Samuel, “How long are you going to grieve over Saul? I have rejected him as king over Israel. Fill your horn with oil and get going. I’m sending you to Jesse of Bethlehem because I have found my next king among his sons.”

“How can I do that?” Samuel asked. “When Saul hears of it he’ll kill me!”

“Take a heifer with you,” the Lord replied, “and say, ‘I have come to make a sacrifice to the Lord.’ Invite Jesse to the sacrifice, and I will make clear to you what you should do. You will anoint for me the person I point out to you.”

Samuel did what the Lord instructed. When he came to Bethlehem, the city elders came to meet him. They were shaking with fear. “Do you come in peace?” they asked.

“Yes,” Samuel answered. “I’ve come to make a sacrifice to the Lord. Now make yourselves holy, then come with me to the sacrifice.” Samuel made Jesse and his sons holy and invited them to the sacrifice as well.

When they arrived, Samuel looked at Eliab and thought, That must be the Lord’s anointed right in front.

But the Lord said to Samuel, “Have no regard for his appearance or stature, because I haven’t selected him. God doesn’t look at things like humans do. Humans see only what is visible to the eyes, but the Lord sees into the heart.”

Next Jesse called for Abinadab, who presented himself to Samuel, but he said, “The Lord hasn’t chosen this one either.” So Jesse presented Shammah, but Samuel said, “No, the Lord hasn’t chosen this one.” Jesse presented seven of his sons to Samuel, but Samuel said to Jesse, “The Lord hasn’t picked any of these.” Then Samuel asked Jesse, “Is that all of your boys?”

“There is still the youngest one,” Jesse answered, “but he’s out keeping the sheep.”

“Send for him,” Samuel told Jesse, “because we can’t proceed until he gets here.”

So Jesse sent and brought him in. He was reddish brown, had beautiful eyes, and was good-looking. The Lord said, “That’s the one. Go anoint him.” So Samuel took the horn of oil and anointed him right there in front of his brothers. The Lord’s spirit came over David from that point forward.

Then Samuel left and went to Ramah. 1 Samuel 16:1-13 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you from the Triune God--Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Our text today from first Samuel opens with this words from from first Samuel opens with these words from the Lord to Samuel, “How long will you grieve over Saul?”

These words give us a hint that not all has gone well with the first king of Israel--the king we learned last week that Samuel would anoint. The king demanded by the people so that they could be “like all the other nations.”

In the time between last week’s calling of Samuel and today’s lesson, time has, once again, passed. Samuel’s sons--who would have been expected to move into his role as prophet-judge over Israel--have perverted the system, just like Samuel’s predecessor, Eli.

The people have used this systemic corruption to make a demand of God for a king. The political threat of the neighboring Philistines continues to over them. And, instead of having faith in God’s ability to prosper or even sustain them as a nation, they demand through Samuel that God give them a human king. 

God decides to give them what it is they think they want. In 1 Samuel 8, God says to Samuel, “Comply with the people’s request--everything they ask of you--because they haven’t rejected you. No, they’ve rejected me as king over them. They are doing to you only what they’ve been doing to me from the day I brought them out of Egypt to this very minute, abandoning me and worshipping other gods. So comply with their request, but give them a clear warning, telling them how the king will rule over them.”

So, Samuel does. But he warns them what a monarchy will look like: a military draft, forced labor, taxation, and eventual tyranny (all of which will eventually come true). The human king they so desperately want so they can be just “like all of the other nations” will eventually become their oppressor.

Saul is anointed by Samuel as king over Israel. There are indications at the beginning of Saul’s story that his masculinity was an important factor in his choice. That his “height” and his “physical prowess” were important in the choice, even though he was from the smallest clan of the smallest tribe of Israel. And, although, he began his reign as king with a humble heart, it was not long, before arrogance and his ego began to take over and he began to make choices that were not consistent with God’s instruction.

Soon, everything began to fall apart.

It is here where our story today picks up. Samuel is grieving Saul’s disobedience. But, God has already moved on, deciding that Saul’s monarchy will not continue. So, God directs Samuel to go to Bethlehem. That there, in Bethlehem, Samuel will find the new king and anoint him.

As Samuel approaches Bethlehem, the village elders approach him. They are nervous. It is never a good thing, in their mind, that God’s prophet is coming to their village. Yet, Samuel assures them that he is there in peace--that he has come to make sacrifice to God. He invites them to prepare themselves for the sacrifice--to make themselves ritually clean--and to join him. Samuel also invites Jesse to make sacrifice. Jesse, grandson of Boaz and Ruth, and a descendant of Perez, son of Judah. Jesse’s line can be traced all the way back to Judah. Jesse, who’s name means “man of God.”

It is from Jesse’s lineage--from his sons--that Israel’s new king will come.

Samuel sees Jesse’s oldest son, Eliab, and thinks, “This must be him, right in front.” Perhaps it was his appearance, perhaps he looked as Samuel thought a king should look, perhaps tall and handsome--the way we like our leaders to look.

Yet, he isn’t God’s choice. God says to Samuel,” Pay no attention to his appearance or his stature. Because I don’t look at things like humans do. I look beyond appearances. I look at the heart.”

So Samuel continues. Son after son, he moves through Jesse’s family. When he reaches the seventh one, the last one there, he says to Jesse, “Are there any more? Is that all of them?

Jesse says that there is. One more. The youngest. The one that is out in the pastures keeping the sheep.

Samuel asks Jesse to send for him. When he arrives, Samuel sees that he is ruddy-looking (remember Esau?) and that he had beautiful eyes. That he was good-looking. God, though, saw his heart and said to Samuel, “He’s the one! Anoint him!”

Samuel took the oil he’d brought with him--the ram’s horn full of oil--and poured it over the youngest son’s head, anointing him as the new king of Israel. Our text says that “the Lord’s spirit came over David from that point forward.”

David would go on to become the greatest king that Israel would have. And, it would be through David’s line, through his lineage, that another, even greater, King would come. A Messiah.

How do we make sense for ourselves of this story? How do we make our own meaning from it? How does it inform us today in the 21st century? After all, the days of kings and monarchies, of warring neighbors, of oppression and oppressive structures, are gone or nearly gone! Aren’t they? We are so much more enlightened than the Israel of the past. Aren’t we? We don’t choose our leaders--or anyone else, for that matter--based on outward appearances! We don’t look to our leaders to be our very own, self-selected saviors! Do we? We certainly don’t reject God, failing to trust that God will prosper and sustain us! Do we? 

Do we?

I think we do. I think we are not all that different than Israel. I think we look at outward appearances because we want to be just like everyone else. And, I think we fail, regularly, to look inside and see the heart of others.

God does. God sees the hearts of others. God sees our hearts. Even in the midst of doubt and fear and failure, God sees our hearts.  And God loves us anyway. And God promises to prosper and sustain us. If we only believe it.

A few years into his monarchy, David--this great king of Israel--tripped up. He made some huge mistakes. When Samuel confronted him, he realized how deeply he had abandoned God and wrote this prayer:

Soak me in your laundry and I’ll come out clean,
    scrub me and I’ll have a snow-white life.
Tune me in to foot-tapping songs,
    set these once-broken bones to dancing.
Don’t look too close for blemishes,
    give me a clean bill of health.
God, make a fresh start in me,
    shape a Genesis week from the chaos of my life.
Don’t throw me out with the trash,
    or fail to breathe holiness in me.
Bring me back from gray exile,
    put a fresh wind in my sails!
Give me a job teaching rebels your ways
    so the lost can find their way home.
Commute my death sentence, God, my salvation God,
    and I’ll sing anthems to your life-giving ways.

Today, after worship, we will hold a congregational meeting. At this meeting, we will elect our leadership for the next year. We will approve our budget for next year. And we will begin to envision where God is leading our congregation. Next week we will commit to funding that vision. And in two weeks, we will celebrate our 20th anniversary and invite our entire community to participate in that vision.

Where do you see yourself in that vision? Are you perhaps, like David, suffering from once-broken bones, blemished and gray, trying to survive the chaos of your life, feeling as though you have been tossed out with the trash? Or are you, perhaps, like Israel, believing that God can’t be relied upon, that we can only rely upon ourselves.

May we learn from Israel and trust that God has in mind to prosper and sustain us. May we pray like David that God might breathe holiness in us and put fresh wind in our sails! May we do the work of God--teaching rebels God’s ways so that all people might find their way home. Back to a God who loves them. And who loves us. Deeply.

May David’s prayer be our prayer. May God continue to make fresh starts in us so that we might continue to sing songs to God's life-giving way. Amen.

Preached October 22, 2017, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.

20th Sunday after Pentecost

Readings: 1 Samuel 16:1-13; Psalm 51:10-14; John 7:24.

Being Called

Now the boy Samuel was ministering to the Lord under Eli. The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread.

At that time Eli, whose eyesight had begun to grow dim so that he could not see, was lying down in his room; the lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the temple of the Lord, where the ark of God was. Then the Lord called, “Samuel! Samuel!” and he said, “Here I am!” and ran to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call; lie down again.” So he went and lay down. The Lord called again, “Samuel!” Samuel got up and went to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call, my son; lie down again.” Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord, and the word of the Lord had not yet been revealed to him. The Lord called Samuel again, a third time. And he got up and went to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” Then Eli perceived that the Lord was calling the boy. Therefore Eli said to Samuel, “Go, lie down; and if he calls you, you shall say, ‘Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.’” So Samuel went and lay down in his place.

Now the Lord came and stood there, calling as before, “Samuel! Samuel!” And Samuel said, “Speak, for your servant is listening.” Then the Lord said to Samuel, “See, I am about to do something in Israel that will make both ears of anyone who hears of it tingle. On that day I will fulfill against Eli all that I have spoken concerning his house, from beginning to end. For I have told him that I am about to punish his house forever, for the iniquity that he knew, because his sons were blaspheming God, and he did not restrain them. Therefore I swear to the house of Eli that the iniquity of Eli’s house shall not be expiated by sacrifice or offering forever.”

Samuel lay there until morning; then he opened the doors of the house of the Lord. Samuel was afraid to tell the vision to Eli. But Eli called Samuel and said, “Samuel, my son.” He said, “Here I am.” Eli said, “What was it that he told you? Do not hide it from me. May God do so to you and more also, if you hide anything from me of all that he told you.” So Samuel told him everything and hid nothing from him. Then he said, “It is the Lord; let him do what seems good to him.”

As Samuel grew up, the Lord was with him and let none of his words fall to the ground. And all Israel from Dan to Beer-sheba knew that Samuel was a trustworthy prophet of the Lord. The Lord continued to appear at Shiloh, for the Lord revealed himself to Samuel at Shiloh by the word of the Lord. 1 Samuel 3:1-21 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you from God--our Creator, our Redeemer, and our Renewer. Amen.

As we begin today’s story--the calling of Samuel--we have fast forwarded in history from our lesson last week. There’s been some serious time travel across the books of Exodus, Joshua and Judges.

When we last gathered together, we were following the exodus of Israel out of slavery in Egypt into wandering in the desert. After freeing Israel, God reconstructed them in the Sinai wilderness. It was here that God entered into covenant with Israel--that they would be God’s own special people. Under this agreement, God promised to be their God if they would follow the Instruction given to Moses--the law that Moses had received from God on Mount Sinai. Israel was a people governed directly by God through Moses, who acted as mediator. They were a people blessed by God. Blessed so that they could be a blessing to others.

After a generation of moving through the wilderness, they reached the land promised to them by God. The land of Canaan. It is here, at the point of entry into this Promised Land, that Moses dies. It is here that Joshua steps in as Moses’ successor, as the new leader of and mediator for Israel. Throughout the book of Joshua, we learn of Israel’s entry and settlement in Canaan. The story ends with yet another renewal of the covenant between God and Israel. It also ends with Joshua’s death.

The book of Judges, in picking up the story of Israel--of God’s people--deals with two questions. How will Israel now conduct its affairs as the people of God who are settled in their God-given home? And, how will Israel be governed now that there is no Moses or Joshua to exercise leadership?

It is not long in Canaan, before it all begins to fall apart. Before people go astray. That they are conquered by a nearby nation. Then, they cry out, as we have so often heard them do before. And, God, faithful always, responds. 

In response, God sends in a prophet-judge, who assists in bringing God’s people back to faith. Back into covenant with God. This pattern repeats itself over and over and over again through the book of Judges. Judge after judge. Othniel, Ehud, Shamgar, Deborah, Barak, Jael. Then, finally, Samuel. 

Which is where we begin today.

As our lesson opens in 1st Samuel, chapter 3, Samuel is a young child, serving the priest, Eli, in the tabernacle at Shiloh, the tabernacle that had been established at Shiloh by Joshua. During the period of the judges, Shiloh has become the center of religious life for Israel. 

The tabernacle housed the Ark of the Covenant. The Ark was essentially a chest that contained various things. The tablets of the Law and the staff of Aaron, brother of Moses, among other things. It was kind of like a portable power center for Israel. It signified God’s presence, even an intensification of God’s presence for Israel. It was the most treasured object that Israel had--a sign of the presence of God.

It was here, at the tabernacle, that Eli was the priest. His two sons were also ordained, as well. In the earlier chapters of 1st Samuel, we have learned that Eli’s sons have not been faithful. They’re kind of stereotypical PK’s--pastor’s kids. In fact, Eli’s two sons have become corrupt. They are stealing from the offering plate. As called and ordained priests, they are sinning directly against God, by stealing from the treasury. The opening verse of our lesson today reads that the Lord’s word was rare at that time and visions weren’t widely known. One can only wonder whether it was the conduct of the clergy that was obscuring the ability of God’s own people to hear or to experience the living Word of God. That the institution was getting in the way of hearing God.

And, so, God plans to do a new thing.

This new thing is Samuel. It is into the midst of this corrupt institution that Samuel enters in. Samuel, a young child, given up in service to God by Hannah, his mother. This child, Hannah’s first fruit offering back to the Lord, serves Eli, the temple priest.

In the early verses of our story, Samel is obediently resting beside the Ark. As he sleeps, he hears his name called. “Samuel! Samuel!” 

“Here I am!” Samuel replies. Heneni, in Hebrew. We’re heard this response before haven’t we? Abraham. Jacob. All of them responding to God’s call with the words, “Here I am.” Heneni.

But, Samuel is young. He has never before experienced the word of the Lord. He thinks that it is Eli who is calling him. And, at this point, Eli, himself, doesn’t even recognize that it is God who is calling Samuel--Eli, so disconnected from God, fails to realize at first that it is God who is calling Samuel. 

This happens two more times. Finally, the third time, it dawns on Eli who is calling Samuel. And, so, Eli instructs Samuel how to respond. 

So, the fourth time, when God calls Samuel, he knows how to respond and he does. God, then, speaks to Samuel and calls him to become truth-teller to Eli. To confront Eli with the truth of the patterns that are abusive within his own family and all those whom they touch.

You see, God is not content to let things be. God is unwilling to allow patterns of corruption and abuse to remain concealed and to be perpetuated from generation to generation. This is one of God’s primary purposes for enlisting Samuel as judge and prophet. To be truth-teller. 

It is also God’s purpose for Samuel to lead God’s people through the coming crisis, the coming threat of the neighboring Philistines--a military crisis through which the priestly house of Eli will be punished and the Ark of the Covenant eventually lost. 

Samuel will be the last of the judges. He will guide Israel through crisis, will bring them back to repentance, and will bring about, through God’s power, their deliverance and the return of the Ark of the Covenant.

God calls Samuel. And God equips Samuel to do God’s work. 

In the same way God calls each of us. And God equips each of us to do God’s work. Each of us has a calling. In fact, each of us has multiple callings, multiple vocations. Vocations that are both paid and unpaid. Worker. Neighbor. Sibling. Child. Parent. Grandparent. 

Luther wrote extensively on the topic of vocation. It is at the heart of our Lutheran tradition. About how each of us has been freed from the guilt and shame of our own brokenness through the saving power of Christ on the cross. And about how, then, each of us is freed to live into our baptisms and to live out our baptismal callings, in our personal lives and in the life of our community, here and out there.

How are we living into our callings? How are we living more fully into who God intends us to be so that, as we are blessed, we might be a blessing to others?

On this day when we are, in particular, lifting up the calling--the vocation--of farmers, I’m reminded of my own father, who was a farmer. A rancher-farmer. On our ranch in north central South Dakota, we raised sheep and cattle. We averaged 1,000 head of sheep and 400 head of cattle. We raised 1,200 acres of alfalfa as feed. 

Now, my father could have been content to live comfortably on the income provided from our ranch. Yet, he understood that it wasn’t simply about his comfort. He understood that through his vocation as farmer he was to serve God and to bless others with the blessings God had bestowed on him. 

It was not unusual for my father to be daily helping out our neighbors. To give the elderly couple living north of us several orphaned lambs that they could raise and sell to supplement their fixed income. Or to help out a neighboring farmer in a harvest. Or, even, to give rides in the middle of the night to the Native Americans who were walking the 60 miles between reservations and, who often stopped at our farm along the way, to ask if they might sleep overnight in our barn.

My father was not a perfect person. He sometimes had a temper that could get out of control. On occasion, he could get himself into trouble, particularly with my mother. But, I think he understood that, in his vocation as farmer, he was called upon to share the blessings God had given him. To live out the forgiveness and grace he had received as a gift from God through Christ in his own life by serving others.

Do you hear God calling you? Do you hear God calling you to be the blessing God has called you to be? In whatever vocations you have? To live more fully into your baptismal covenant as a child of God? Are you listening?

And, then, are you responding? And, how are you responding? As farmer? As son? As daughter? As grandparent? As parent? Perhaps it is as simple as sitting down with your child or your grandchild and simply listening to them for fifteen minutes. Listening, without telling them what they have done wrong or what they should or shouldn’t do. Just being present with them, hearing them. And being the blessing for them that God intends us to be. 

How will you live out your call today? And tomorrow? And into the future? God has called and equipped each of us. May we be as faithful with our call as young Samuel. May we be a blessing to others as richly as God has blessed us. Amen.

Preached October 14, 2017 at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
19th Sunday after Pentecost
Readings: 1 Samuel 3:1-21, John 20:21-23.