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

Good News Spreads: That Church

Our story today is about Paul. Or Saul, depending what language you are speaking. Saul didn’t change his name to Paul after his conversation. Saul is simply the Hebrew version of Paul, which is Greek. It’s like the difference between John, which is English, and Johannes, which is the German form of John. And vice versa. 

Now that we’ve got that straight, we can move forward with our story. We’re making a bit a leap forward from last Sunday’s text about Thomas and about his experience with Jesus. Saul appears in the New Testament after Jesus has ascended. And after the Holy Spirit - promised by Jesus - has been poured out onto the believers at Pentecost. 

This Jewish community of Jesus followers is growing by leaps and bounds. If you remember that Pentecost story, something three or four thousand were baptized in one day. The early disciples are speaking truth to their religious leaders - the Jewish religious leaders - about Jesus. This truth-speaking is not without consequence. Just before today’s story, is the story of the stoning of Stephen, the first martyr of these Jesus followers, these people who called themselves “The Way.” At the edges of the scene of Stephen’s martyrdom is where we first meet Saul, where we read at the beginning of Acts 8, rather ominously, “Saul was in full agreement with Stephen’s murder.”

Stephen’s death was the beginning of vicious harassment of the people of The Way. They quickly left Jerusalem and scattered through the surrounding regions to get away from the violence. Soon after, we again read these words in the early verses of Acts 8: “Saul began to wreak havoc against the church. Entering one house after another, he would drag off both men and women and throw them into prison.”

Saul. Devout. Faithful. Was a zealot. What he was doing was, in his mind, the right thing to do. It’s at this point that our story opens today, which we will read in three scenes.

Meanwhile, Saul was still spewing out murderous threats against the Lord’s disciples. He went to the high priest, seeking letters to the synagogues in Damascus. If he found persons who belonged to the Way, whether men or women, these letters would authorize him to take them as prisoners to Jerusalem. During the journey, as he approached Damascus, suddenly a light from heaven encircled him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice asking him, “Saul, Saul, why are you harassing me?”

Saul asked, “Who are you, Lord?”

“I am Jesus, whom you are harassing,” came the reply. “Now get up and enter the city. You will be told what you must do.”

Those traveling with him stood there speechless; they heard the voice but saw no one. After they picked Saul up from the ground, he opened his eyes but he couldn’t see. So they led him by the hand into Damascus. For three days he was blind and neither ate nor drank anything. --Acts 9:1-9 (CEB)

Paul was desperate to stop these people who were undermining his religious tradition. So desperate in fact that he went to high priest to get letters for the synagogues in Damascus about 200 miles away. These letters introduce him to the synagogue leaders and authorize him, on behalf of the high priest, to capture and take Jesus believers - men and women - back to prison in Jerusalem. Paul was acting under the authority of the religious leaders. 

But along the way to Damascus, something completely unexpected happened to him. Like the Thomas narrative last week, the theme of believing without seeing is picked up in today’s story. But, in Saul’s conversion it is the story of believing by not seeing. Like Thomas last week, Saul has his own unique experience with Jesus. An experience that completely disrupts his life. An experience that makes him vulnerable - a vulnerability that he can’t run away from, or try to deny, or try to reason away. Saul has an experience in which he meets Jesus and is forever changed. 

Do you notice what Jesus says to him is this brief interchange on the road? Jesus’ first words to Saul are “Why are you persecuting me?” Why are you persecuting me? Jesus asks him. Saul isn’t persecuting Jesus. Or so we think. But, whenever we persecute any follower of Jesus, any member of the body of Christ, we - like Saul - are persecuting Jesus himself. 

Saul’s friends lead him to a house in Damascus, where he waits in his blindness for three days. For his own resurrection.

Our story continues. Scene 2.

In Damascus there was a certain disciple named Ananias. The Lord spoke to him in a vision, “Ananias!”

He answered, “Yes, Lord.”

The Lord instructed him, “Go to Judas’ house on Straight Street and ask for a man from Tarsus named Saul. He is praying. In a vision he has seen a man named Ananias enter and put his hands on him to restore his sight.”

Ananias countered, “Lord, I have heard many reports about this man. People say he has done horrible things to your holy people in Jerusalem. He’s here with authority from the chief priests to arrest everyone who calls on your name.”

The Lord replied, “Go! This man is the agent I have chosen to carry my name before Gentiles, kings, and Israelites. I will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name.” --Acts 9:10-16 (CEB)

Like Paul, Jesus comes to Ananias in a vision. Ananias was, as our text tells us, a faithful disciple living in Damascus. God directs him to go to Saul, staying in a house on Straight Street (no pun intended). And just as most faithful disciples - or prophets - respond to God’s call, his first question to Jesus, is “Are you crazy?” You want me to go to this man - this persecutor of my fellow believers, my friends, those whom I love - so that I can lay hands on him and heal him of his blindness. Yeah. No.

It’s interesting isn’t it. That just as this is a story of Saul’s conversion, it is just as much a story of the conversion of Ananias. He has his own blind spot, not only with Saul, but also with regard to the power of God to transform. He knows Saul as an enemy of God’s saints. He knows Saul as having free reign to bind those who invoke the name of Jesus. And, not so surprising to us, probably much like we would respond, he doesn’t want to go anywhere near him.

But God has plans for Saul. For this agent - this vessel - that God intends to use to spread the good news of abundant life in Jesus. Ananias will be called to serve Saul, so that he, in turn, can serve those whom he persecuted. Gentiles. Then, kings. And the people of Israel. God will, in time, reveal to Saul how much he must suffer for the sake of God’s name - suffering that Paul lists later in his letter to the church in Corinth. Beatings. A shipwreck. Imprisonment. And on and on. Not that God desires this suffering, but that God knows the fearful human response that comes from living according to the Way of Jesus Christ, this way of peace, of truth, of life. The human response is a violent response that comes out of fear. Fear of being vulnerable. Of being open to a new Way. Open to Jesus. Where death leads to life. Oppression, freedom. Hatred, love.

We continue with Scene 3, our closing scene.

Ananias went to the house. He placed his hands on Saul and said, “Brother Saul, the Lord sent me—Jesus, who appeared to you on the way as you were coming here. He sent me so that you could see again and be filled with the Holy Spirit.” Instantly, flakes fell from Saul’s eyes and he could see again. He got up and was baptized. After eating, he regained his strength. --Acts 9:17-19a (CEB)

What a powerful response by Ananias! He lets go of the fear. Of the hurt. Of the possibility of his own death. And goes to Saul. Lays his hands on him. Calls him, “Brother.” Then baptizes him, by which Saul is cleansed and purified, reborn and brought to new life through the Holy Spirit. And welcomed into the community - into the body of Christ. With a snack to boot!

This story of Saul’s conversion. This is the story of mutual conversion - Saul and Ananias. Is a story of disruption. About the way that God works in our world, where God breaks into our lives in surprising ways. Upsetting our understanding of things or to challenge our belief system. Working through unexpected people. And changing us to be a people - a church - of hospitality and welcome. It is a story about how God calls us - the Church - to be. A place of truth, where we recognize the complexity in one another, where we have pasts that may not always be so pretty. Yet, where we are called to embrace each other in all of our differences. Where we move away from division, and violence, and fear, and retribution, to a place of invitation. Of openness. Of acceptance. And, where we, like Thomas, like Saul, and like Ananias, experience Jesus. Here. Now.

May we be that Church. Amen.

Preached May 1, 2022, at Grace & Glory, Prospect, with Third, Louisville.

Easter 3

Readings: Acts 9:1-19a, Matthew 6:24

God's Way of Leading: A (Sort of) Godly Leader

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

When my son was in Afghanistan, one of the most important aspects of what his infantry battalion did was to meet and build relationships with the local tribal leaders. Afghanistan, like many other nations in the Middle East and Asia, is still organized along tribal, ethnic, and religious lines. We hear about these groups all the time on the news: the Kurds and the Turks are one very recent example.

It was important for the U.S. military to have these relationships. Because, through them, they could learn what the Afghan people were thinking, they could build alliances, and they could work together to root out the Taliban or Isis or other similar groups. 

If you were here last Sunday and you listened carefully as we read from the opening verses of Ruth, you might have heard these words: “During the day when the judges ruled…” You see, as the descendants of each of Jacob’s 12 sons had grown, each of these families became tribes. The 12 tribes of Israel.

So, by the time of the book of Ruth, these tribes had grown to the point where God had appointed leaders for each of them. Judges is the term used in Scripture. And yet, these judges, were really no different than the local tribal leaders that my son’s battalion dealt with in Afghanistan.

Today, though, we move into a new way of being for Israel. The book of Ruth acts as a kind of hinge in the Old Testament, moving us out of the early developmental years of the nation of Israel, into the years of the monarchy. The book of Samuel, broken into two separate books, begins to trace the kings who ruled over Israel. In Samuel we follow three main characters. Anyone want to take a shot at naming them? Samuel, the prophet. Saul, the first king anointed by God through Samuel. David, Saul’s successor.

First Samuel covers the reign of King Saul. A reign that begins magnificently, but eventually fails. It seems that Saul experiences what leaders often do - that absolute power corrupts absolutely. Saul has turned away from God, failing to follow what God has asked him to do. By the end of this first book, Saul has been killed, along with his successor - his son, Jonathan.

As our reading opens, Israel has just been through a civil war - a battle to determine who will be the next king. We read in 2 Samuel 5:1-5. 

Then all the tribes of Israel came to David at Hebron, and said, “Look, we are your bone and flesh. For some time, while Saul was king over us, it was you who led out Israel and brought it in. The Lord said to you: It is you who shall be shepherd of my people Israel, you who shall be ruler over Israel.” So all the elders of Israel came to the king at Hebron; and King David made a covenant with them at Hebron before the Lord, and they anointed David king over Israel. David was thirty years old when he began to reign, and he reigned forty years. At Hebron he reigned over Judah seven years and six months; and at Jerusalem he reigned over all Israel and Judah thirty-three years.  --2 Sam. 5:1-5 (NRSV)

How many of you have ever herded sheep? It is not easy. And I speak from experience. They often run in circles, are easily spooked, and regularly led astray by sheep within the herd who lead them in the exact opposite direction where you want them to go. It is a frustrating and crazy-making thing - this being a shepherd. To be a shepherd takes great patience. Great calm. And an ability to gently nudge the sheep forward. In the direction you want them to go. 

This is exactly what David - the shepherd of sheep - has been called to do by God with the 12 tribes of Israel. With God’s own people. To show great patience and calmness. And to gently nudge them in the way God wants them to go. This is what, in God’s eyes, a leader looks like. How God desires David to lead. How God desires us to lead.

Do you think of yourself as a leader? I would venture that you are. Perhaps you hold or held a leadership position in your workplace. At school. In your community. In an organization. Or among your friends. Certainly, if you are or have ever been a parent, you are a leader. What is your model of leadership? From what source do you understand what leadership looks like? 

We are living in fraught times at the moment. When this question of leadership looms very large, especially as we move into a season of elections. When we look in the public sphere, what kind of leadership do we see? Is it the leadership of empire? Of power and dominion? The kind of leadership the world seeks, where power is the goal. Power and wealth. And control. Leadership that seeks to keep people apart. That seeks to keep people fighting against themselves. To preserve its power and wealth and control.

Or do we see leadership that is shepherd-like? Like David. As complex and human, as much a saint and sinner as all of us, yet humble. Patient. Caring for his people as a shepherd preserves his sheep. 

Our reading continues in 2 Samuel 6:1-5. 

David again gathered all the chosen men of Israel, thirty thousand. David and all the people with him set out and went from Baale-judah, to bring up from there the ark of God, which is called by the name of the Lord of hosts who is enthroned on the cherubim. They carried the ark of God on a new cart, and brought it out of the house of Abinadab, which was on the hill. Uzzah and Ahio, the sons of Abinadab, were driving the new cart with the ark of God; and Ahio went in front of the ark. David and all the house of Israel were dancing before the Lord with all their might, with songs and lyres and harps and tambourines and castanets and cymbals.  --2 Sam. 6:1-5 (NRSV)

As they moved the Ark to Jerusalem, David and all Israel celebrated. Notice that this was their greatest celebration. Not the battle victories or even the unification of Israel. Instead it was this Ark. This place where God resided. Where God’s Word resided. David knew that Jerusalem was already the cultural, economic, and political center of Israel. But, he also knew that Jerusalem would not, could not, be complete, could not become the people God desired them to be, without the Ark of the Covenant. Without the presence of God. As the Ark was moved to Jerusalem, it was this that led David and all Israel to their greatest celebration. To dance with abandon, with all their strength. To sing and to dance in complete and utter passion and joy in the knowledge that God was present with them. 

I pray that as we act in ways of leadership in our homes and communities and workplaces. As we elect new leaders in our congregation next Sunday. And as we elect leaders in our state next month and in our country next year, I pray that we will keep in mind these images of God’s desired leadership. Leadership that is shepherd-like. Humble. Patient. Leadership that is like that of our Good Shepherd, Jesus Christ. Leadership that seeks to bring people together. 

But, mostly, I pray that we will seek leadership that has, at its very core, the joy and passion for the presence of God. So that we, too, like David, may sing and dance with all abandon.

Amen.

Preached October 20, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY

Pentecost 19

Readings: Mark 11:8-10, Psalm 150, 2 Samuel 5:1-5, 6:1-5

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

Good News Spreads: Creating

One day, as we were going to the place of prayer, we met a slave-girl who had a spirit of divination and brought her owners a great deal of money by fortune-telling. While she followed Paul and us, she would cry out, “These men are slaves of the Most High God, who proclaim to you a way of salvation.” She kept doing this for many days. But Paul, very much annoyed, turned and said to the spirit, “I order you in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her.” And it came out that very hour.

But when her owners saw that their hope of making money was gone, they seized Paul and Silas and dragged them into the marketplace before the authorities. When they had brought them before the magistrates, they said, “These men are disturbing our city; they are Jews and are advocating customs that are not lawful for us as Romans to adopt or observe.” The crowd joined in attacking them, and the magistrates had them stripped of their clothing and ordered them to be beaten with rods. After they had given them a severe flogging, they threw them into prison and ordered the jailer to keep them securely. Following these instructions, he put them in the innermost cell and fastened their feet in the stocks.

About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them. Suddenly there was an earthquake, so violent that the foundations of the prison were shaken; and immediately all the doors were opened and everyone’s chains were unfastened. When the jailer woke up and saw the prison doors wide open, he drew his sword and was about to kill himself, since he supposed that the prisoners had escaped. But Paul shouted in a loud voice, “Do not harm yourself, for we are all here.” The jailer called for lights, and rushing in, he fell down trembling before Paul and Silas. Then he brought them outside and said, “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” They answered, “Believe on the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved, you and your household.” They spoke the word of the Lord to him and to all who were in his house. At the same hour of the night he took them and washed their wounds; then he and his entire family were baptized without delay. He brought them up into the house and set food before them; and he and his entire household rejoiced that he had become a believer in God. Acts 16:16-34 (NRSV)

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

Each week as I prepare to write my sermon, there are a variety of things I do and read. I first meditate for a day or two on the reading, using different translations to see how it has been interpreted differently. Then, I go to the original Greek and see if there is anything that stands out to me. Then, believe it or not, I go onto Facebook. (Do I hear a collective groan?) 

I really do go onto Facebook. Because on that platform, I am a member of a few different groups that discuss our weekly reading from the Narrative Lectionary. Sometimes the discussion gets very lively. At other times, there’s hardly any. This week, though, our reading from Acts resulted in one of the longest and most liveliest discussions I’ve seen over the past couple of years.

The primary focus of this discussion was the incident between the Apostle Paul and the slave girl who was possessed by a spirit, a spirit that gave her fortune-telling abilities. So, we are going to look closely at that exchange today. But, before digging deeper into it and everything it led to, first, a little context.

Last week, we heard about the conversion of Saul, whom we know better as Paul. His conversion happened along the road to Damascus, in Syria, some 135 miles away north of Jerusalem, as the crow flies. Today’s story is years later, years during which Paul has been formed as an apostle and, particularly, years during which he has been spreading the good news of Jesus Christ to the Gentiles, to the non-Jews. This is the mission territory where the Jerusalem council has sent him. Where the Holy Spirit has sent him.

As our story opens, Paul and Silas are in Philippi. Now Phillippi is in northeast Greece, a continent away from Jerusalem. It was a Roman colony and was located along a major east-west trade route for the Roman empire. So, Philippi was a cosmopolitan city with many influences, particularly Greek and Roman. In the verses that precede today’s story, we learn that the first convert in Philippi was Lydia, a woman who was a merchant selling purple cloth, likely a wealthy merchant. As was the custom of that day, when Lydia converted, her entire household was converted. It was in Lydia’s home that Paul and Silas were staying as they worked to share the Gospel throughout this thriving city. It is at this point that today’s story opens.

One day, as they were headed to a place where they had been praying outside the city gates, they met a young woman who was a slave. Our scripture says that she had a “spirit of divination.” What is interesting about this young slave woman and the spirit that inhabited her body was that, in the Greek, this spirit is called a “python spirit.” If you’re up on your Greek mythology, Python was the name of the mythical serpent that guarded the oracle at Delphi. Python was defeated by the Greek god, Apollo. So, the story of Python and Apollo is really a story of conflict. A story of a fight for rulership, over which god will ultimately prevail. 

But, back to our young woman. After meeting Paul and Silas, she began to follow them and to shout, “These people are servants of the Most High God! They are proclaiming a way of salvation to you!” Doesn’t sound so bad, does it? But, day after day, when she saw them, she would shout this. After awhile, Paul became annoyed. Very annoyed. One day, he turned to her and ordered this spirit--this “python spirit”--out of her. Now, one would typically think that this would have been a good thing. That it was positive that Paul had freed her of this spirit. 

One would think that.

But, in her case, she was being used by her owners--exploited by her owners--who were making a lot of money off of her, a lot of money off of her fortune-telling abilities.  So, when Paul sent the spirit packing, along with it went their money-making ability. They got angry. They grabbed Paul and Silas and took them to the town square to the legal authorities. 

Do you notice what they do next?

Rather than speak the truth of what had happened, they seek to exploit and to divide people by nationality. “They are Jews!” the men say. “They are bringing in practices that are different from our culture.”  They seek to agitate the crowd against Paul and Silas for who they are--Jewish rather than Roman. Once again, they are engaging in exploitation. This time it is to drive a wedge between Paul and Silas and the rest of the people.

As a result, Paul and Silas are stripped and beaten. They are thrown into prison, into the “innermost cell,” which would typically have no windows and little air, except when the door was opened. They are secured in stocks. All of this because of a desire on the part of these men to exploit people and situations for their own means.

We already heard the rest of the story. In the middle of the night, as Paul and Silas are praying and singing hymns to God, there is a great earthquake, freeing all of the prisoners. And, eventually, the jailer is saved and baptized, along with his entire household.

Throughout this entire fascinating story, I am still captured by this python spirit. Setting aside the relationship to Greek mythology, I can’t help thinking about pythons and, especially, how they kill their prey. When they catch something--a small animal, for example--they seize their prey with their teeth, while simultaneously squeezing the life out of it. They are life-constricting, rather than life-giving.

This is what exploitation is. This is what is does. Whether it is the exploitation of a young slave, or the exploitation of a crowd, or any other form of exploitation, it is life-constricting rather than life-giving. It kills life, rather than creating life.

Our God is a God that creates life. That is life-giving. This is what we know from creation and from all of scripture. This is what we know from both the cross and the resurrection. God creates life. God is life-giving. Not life-constricting. When we exploit people or situations or when we, yes, exploit creation, we are not living as people of God. We are life-constricting rather than the life-giving people God intends us to be. This is the struggle. This is the fight for rulership, for which God will prevail. A fight between the god of the world that brings death. Or the God of life--who gives life through Jesus Christ. We know the winner of that conflict. We know that God will continue to bring life out of death, to offer forgiveness out of sin, to create light of out darkness, to bring belief out of unbelief. Life-giving. Not life-constricting.

Yesterday, I watched the funeral of Barbara Bush, our former First Lady and mother of former President George W. Bush. She was a wonderful woman. Not perfect, by any means, which she would easily admit. But someone who truly lived out her faith, putting service above selfishness, nation above political party. In a time when fear of AIDS was running rampant in our country, she publicly went to a hospital for infants infected with AIDS and held one, using her position to send a strong message throughout our country. There are many other similar stories. The one, though, that stayed with me the most was about a man named J. T. Pace.

Literacy was the one issue that Mrs. Bush worked on for her entire life. J. T. Pace was a son of a sharecropper. When Mrs. Bush met him, he was 63-years old. He had only recently become literate. He was scheduled to read the preamble to the constitution at an event commemorating our nation’s bicentennial. Backstage, at the event, he was very nervous. Mrs. Bush noticed this and asked if she might help by reading the preamble together with him on stage. He agreed. When they took the stage, they began to read it together. As Mr. Pace became more comfortable reading in front of the large crowd, Mrs. Bush began to lower her voice. Bit by bit, she continued to do this until, at last, Mr. Pace was reading completely on his own. Her work was done when he had fully found his voice.

Life-giving. Not life-constricting. 

We, too, are to be life-givers. This is who we are called to be. To live into the redemption won for us by Jesus on the cross--a redemption intended not only for all humankind, but redemption intended for all creation, whom God has connected us to deeply. We are called to live into that redemption and to be life-givers. 

This is why, on this Earth day, we celebrate the goodness of God’s creation and commit to caring for it. Not to exploit it, but to care for it and to advocate for its health and life, just as we are to advocate and care for all of life. Not to constrict life. But to be life-givers, just as God has given us life. Abundant life.

May God make it so. Amen.

Preached April 22, 2018, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Fourth Sunday of Easter
Readings: Luke 6:18-19, 22-23; Acts 16:16-34

Good News Spreads: Transforming

Meanwhile Saul, still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord, went to the high priest and asked him for letters to the synagogues at Damascus, so that if he found any who belonged to the Way, men or women, he might bring them bound to Jerusalem. Now as he was going along and approaching Damascus, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” He asked, “Who are you, Lord?” The reply came, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. But get up and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do.” The men who were traveling with him stood speechless because they heard the voice but saw no one. Saul got up from the ground, and though his eyes were open, he could see nothing; so they led him by the hand and brought him into Damascus. For three days he was without sight, and neither ate nor drank.

Now there was a disciple in Damascus named Ananias. The Lord said to him in a vision, “Ananias.” He answered, “Here I am, Lord.” The Lord said to him, “Get up and go to the street called Straight, and at the house of Judas look for a man of Tarsus named Saul. At this moment he is praying, and he has seen in a vision a man named Ananias come in and lay his hands on him so that he might regain his sight.” But Ananias answered, “Lord, I have heard from many about this man, how much evil he has done to your saints in Jerusalem; and here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who invoke your name.” But the Lord said to him, “Go, for he is an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before Gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel; I myself will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name.” So Ananias went and entered the house. He laid his hands on Saul and said, “Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on your way here, has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.” And immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and his sight was restored. Then he got up and was baptized, and after taking some food, he regained his strength. Acts 9:1-19a (NRSV)

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

In our reading last week, we heard the story of how the Good News was beginning to spread. From Mary Magdalene, word of Jesus’ resurrection had spread to Peter and John and, then, last week to the remaining followers, including Thomas. We heard last week how Jesus breathed on the disciples. That he breathed into them the Holy Spirit and commissioned them to continue to spread the Good News. The Good News of the complete reversal that God had performed in raising Jesus from the dead.

This week and for the next few weeks, we are in the book of Acts. This is the book in the Bible that gives us stories of the early church--stories of how this first community of believers lived together and, particularly, stories of how the Good News continued to spread.

In the chapters before today’s lesson, the news of Jesus’s resurrection has spread throughout Jerusalem and beyond. The number of believers has continued to increase greatly in Jerusalem. So much that, as their numbers have grown, so has opposition among the Jewish and Roman leadership. This growing tension reaches a climax with the arrest of Stephen, who gives testimony about Jesus’ death and resurrection and, particularly, about the complicity of the religious and political leadership in his crucifixion. It is this testimony--this truth--that results in Stephen’s stoning and death as the first Christian martyr. It is after his death that we are first introduced to Saul--one of two main characters in our lesson today. We know Saul better as Paul, the apostle to the Gentiles and prolific writer of letters to the various faith communities he helped found throughout the Mediterranean area.

But, before he became Paul, he was Saul. We first hear of him in Acts 7. “Then they (speaking of the people Stephen had angered with his testimony)--then they dragged Stephen out of the city and began to stone him: and the witnesses laid their coats at the feet of a young man named Saul...And Saul approved of their killing him."

After Stephen died, a severe persecution began against the church in Jerusalem. All of the disciples except for the small group of apostles were scattered throughout the countryside of Judea and Samaria. In the third verse of chapter 8, we read that “Saul was ravaging the church by entering house after house; dragging off both men and women” and committing them to prison.

As the disciples were scattered, the Good News continued to spread. Not only throughout the countryside of Judea and Samaria, but also into other places. One of those places was Damascus in Syria. It’s the same Damascus, Syria, we know today. Saul was determined to destroy the new believers, those who belonged to “The Way,” which is what they called this movement. Wherever members of “The Way” went, Saul was determined to go after them and imprison or even kill them. 

The city of Damascus, which was 135 miles away from Jerusalem, was one of his target cities. It was on Saul’s first journey to Damascus to hunt out the people of “The Way” that we witness a great reversal. These reversals are characteristic of the Good News. These moments when God completely disrupts expectations and unexpectedly reverses everything. Reversals that indicate to the early disciples that God is at work. That, when God’s intentions are realized, the normal state of affairs is turned completely upside down.

This is what happens with Saul. He experiences a series of reversals. Of great change. Of transformation. God disrupts his experience along the road to Damascus. He changes from seeing to being blind. From a confident and zealous persecutor to one who confesses ignorance about the “lord” he can’t recognize. From a man planning to lead captives back to Jerusalem in chains to one who must be led into Damascus by others. From having authority over others’ bodies to becoming completely dependent with his own. From a man on a mission to one who must now wait to learn what he is to do next. From a man exercising great power over the church to one who has been completely overpowered. Completely overpowered by Jesus. 

Reversal. Transformation.

But, Saul is not the only one. As we move through our story, we are introduced to Ananias, one of Jesus’ disciples in Damascus. Ananias has heard about Saul and his reputation. So, when Jesus appears to Ananias and tells him to go meet Saul, he argues with Jesus. Unaware of the reversals that Saul has already experienced, Ananias is determined that he will not confront this arch-enemy of his and of all of the other believers of The Way. So, he argues with Jesus. But, Jesus responds. “Go, for he is an instrument who I have chosen to bring my name before Gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel.” 

In his conversation with Ananias, Jesus has redefined Saul for him. Saul’s past or his reputation no longer fully express who he now is. Jesus has chosen Paul as his own “instrument” or, better, “vessel” through which to continue to spread the Good News among those who have not yet heard. And not by himself, but as a member of the community of disciples, as one of the The Way.

Reversal. Transformation.

As part of the process of becoming ordained, I was required to participate in CPE. CPE stands for Clinical Pastoral Experience. It consists of 400 hours of chaplaincy training in a hospital or other care situation, where trainees learn how to provide pastoral care for people who are sick or hospitalized, or in need of help to make meaning of a difficult time or situation in their lives. 

In my CPE training at a hospital in Minneapolis, I was grouped with 4 other trainees. All of us came to the group with no or very little practical experience, other than a class or two we had taken in seminary. After one week of orientation, each of us was assigned as a chaplain to one or two of the medical units in the hospital.  

I was terrified. We were all terrified. None of us felt ready to do this important work. Each week we would meet and process our experiences together and tell each other over and over that we were enough. That each one of us was enough. That God had chosen us as God’s instruments--as God’s vessels--and that, as broken and inexperienced as we were, we were enough. 

By the end of our training, each one of us was transformed. Transformed with the understanding that we were enough and beginning to see all of the possibilities that God had in store for us. 

Reversal. Transformation.

This is what God does. God dramatically re-orients our expectations and causes us to reassess what is possible. God did it with my CPE group. God does it with Saul. God does it with Ananias. God does it with you, too.  You, a broken vessel. A chosen, broken vessel. Chosen by God to come into community here and together do the impossible. 

This is the church that Acts imagines. A gathering of broken vessels chosen by God, coming together in a cooperative existence and building a community that lives into a future that completely defies human expectations. What if God continues to surprise and disrupt us as with the Acts church? To surprise us just as God surprised Saul and Ananias with promises of a different identity and an expanded future? To completely reverse and transform our expectation of what is possible? To nudge us to a new experience with new possibilities?

What if?

Amen.

Preached April 15, 2018, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Fourth Sunday of Easter
Readings: Matthew 6:24; Acts 9:1-19a.

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.