You may recall a couple of weeks ago when I laid out the groundwork for the RCL and the upcoming year. And if you remember, I said that there were some gaps in the RCL; which is why I've started listing upcoming readings in the bulletin and urged you to read through the gaps during the week. We have just experienced one of those gaps.
Last week we heard the story of David and Goliath. Today we heard the story about the death of King Saul: The king is dead, long live the king. In between those two stories, a lot takes place. Saul becomes jealous of David's success and of his friendship with Jonathan. Saul tries several times to kill David personally, as well as by putting him in charge of the army. Plots and subplots abound. David goes on the run with Saul in hot pursuit. And David spares Saul's life twice. Finally, during a battle with Philistines, both Saul and Jonathan are killed. This is where we pick up the story; with David's lament for the two men.
Once again we are faced with Holy Scriptures that give us warfare, death, betrayal and murder. Once again we are faced with the question, "Where is God in all of this?"
God is reflected in David's behavior. Not necessarily the warfare and coldblooded murder, but in how he treats Saul. We might not pick up on this if we just follow the RCL, but if you are spending some time in those gaps, you can certainly see how this plays out.
Saul had been anointed king over Israel. But because of a variety of failings, God took away his kingship and gave it to David. Unfortunately for everyone involved, that resulted in two anointed kings at the same time.
The response to this unfortunate situation by the two men couldn't have been more different. While Saul did not know that David had been anointed as the replacement king, he did know that David was a successful warrior, he knew that David had garnered God's favor, and he knew that public opinion was turning to David. All of this caused Saul to be overcome by jealousy.
Saul's solution to the problem . . . eliminate David. Through a variety of machinations, namely sex and war, he tries to have David killed. If Saul could only eliminate this problem, this thorn in his side, this person who caused him grief, then everything would be fine; or so he thought.
David, on the other hand . . . well, I can't be sure, but this may have been the creative spark for Psalm 130: My soul waits for the Lord, more than watchmen for the morning. David knew that Saul had been anointed by God as king over Israel. David knew that there was a covenant between the king and the people of Israel. Regardless of the dual kingship, regardless of what David thought of Saul, David was bound to honor Saul.
Time and again David is faced with attacks from Saul. Time and again, David asks why he is being persecuted. Time and again, David turns the other cheek. Time and again, David refuses to lift a hand against Saul. In his less-than-ideal relationship with Saul, David continually honors his king and refuses to follow popular desires to kill him.
In the midst of the wars, the killings, the affairs and all the other failings, David was a man who had a heart for God. Sometimes his human desires and failings got in the way, but deep down he longed to do God's will. And part of doing God's will is respecting the dignity of every human being, it's praying for your enemies, it's turning the other cheek, and it's being willing to make the journey even with those you dislike.
Apparently not much changes in 4000 years. We certainly haven't seen a reduction of conflicts around the world, and the notion of a "first-strike defense" seems to have become normative in our thinking. And before you think I'm going off on some kind of national defense policy bashing, let's move this a little closer to home.
In the Episcopal Church we are faced with people convinced that those of us who stay in the church are misguided at best and heretics at worst. They have done their best to damage our reputation and lay blame at our feet for the demise of the church. They have fought and bit and scratched to eliminate us from the fold so they won't have to deal with us.
Here in the Ruby Valley, I hear about churches who have treated some members in a less-than-charitable manner, driving those people out of their presence so they won't have to deal with them. Sometimes those people find a home at another church; but sometimes the pain is too great and they drop out entirely.
As we follow these Old Testament texts, I am hopeful that we catch glimpses of God in them. As we hear about those people of long ago, I am hopeful we can learn a lesson from them. Living in community isn't all peaches and cream. Sometimes it's hard. Sometimes we run up against people who upset us to no end; and sometimes those people try to eliminate us from their presence.
When faced with those people, may we be more like David than Saul. May we be willing to say, "Far be it from me to break our covenant and cause disunity."
David was a man after God's own heart. May we treat our enemies with just as much respect and dignity as David treated Saul.
Due to the outbreak of this virus, its ability to spread quickly mainly due to our highly mobile culture, and both information and misinformation about it, I am including a link to the Madison County Emergency Services website.
And David went to Goliath, took his sword, killed him, and then cut off his head.
This is just one of many texts of terror in the Old Testament. And it is this story, among many others, that people use to promote the idea of two gods . . . you know, the God of vengeance and wrath in the O.T. juxtaposed with the God of love and happiness in the N.T. But there aren't two gods, there is but one God in whom we hold in tension the supposed differences, the good and the bad, the vengeance and the love.
If we proclaim one God, which we do (think back to Trinity Sunday), then we need to acquaint ourselves with all of him; not just the God of the gospel who calms the seas and protects his disciples, but the God who is spoken of in texts like David and Goliath. It's easy to hear God in the voice of Jesus calming the seas and putting our fears to rest; but where do we hear God in today's lesson? Where do we hear God in David's decapitation of Goliath?
If we think about it, we might come to the conclusion that this violent story, and maybe all violent stories, is the result of an ancient people struggling to hear God in a world filled with violence. Warfare was constant, life was brutally short, and these are stories of a people trying desperately to hear their God speak through those times.
But by doing this, however, we turn a blind eye to our own recent history. It's a history that includes the Crusades and Inquisition. It's a history that includes the burning of women accused of witchcraft and men accused of heresy. It's a history that includes righteous ethnic cleansing by both Nazi Germany and our own treatment of the Native Americans. It's a history that includes the defense of slavery and the attempts to marginalize non-whites. It's a history that includes both suicide bombers and waterboarding. The conscription of God's name to promote terror is by no means limited to ancient people.
I read an article this past week by Dan Clendenin on this topic. In it, he reminds the reader that there is a difference between evil committed by those who happen to be religious, and evil that is promoted in the name of religion. Neither is acceptable, but we should keep in mind the differences as we contemplate our own response to situations.
For instance . . . In the NY Times there was an article about an "evangelical pastor" who told several of his immigrant parishioners that he had access to specially issued government green cards. All it would cost them to keep the INS away was $8000 and some paperwork. The man has since disappeared. That is certainly an evil act committed by a religious person, and we need to name it as such.
Just as we have a responsibility to name and own up to individual acts of evil, we also have a responsibility to stand up and name those evil acts committed in the name of God. Actions that promote God-sanctioned violence. That includes naming everything from Islamic radicals who call for a holy war against us infidels to Christian fundamentalists who advocate an oppressive patriarchal system of orthodox and death to gays.
Looking back at our history and our current situation, both in the world and in the church, it would behoove us to remember the words of imprisoned German pastor Martin Niemoller, who was sentenced to Dachau for standing up to Hitler: God is not the enemy of my enemies. God is not even the enemy of his enemies. We must beware of a religious fanaticism that proclaims God hates all those you hate; because that is idolatry.
Violence in the world happens. Violence in the Bible happens. Human history is written with it. But that doesn't mean that God sanctions it.
In all of the bluster and noise that is humanity, where do we hear God? In our wars and conflicts, where does God speak to us? Elijah heard God not in thunder or wind or earthquake or fire, but in a still, small voice. Sometimes the Lord God Almighty speaks to us with a voice so small and quiet we are liable to miss it if we aren't paying attention.
Buried in that long David and Goliath reading we heard today are these words: You come to me with sword and spear and javelin; but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts . . . know that the Lord does not save by sword and spear.
Know that the Lord does not save by sword and spear.
If we proclaim a God of peace and justice, and then conscript his name to perpetrate atrocities, we not only make a liar out of our faith, we invalidate that faith. Our task is not to conquer in the name of the Lord.
In short, our task is to proclaim a God who does not save by sword and spear and who seeks to reconcile the whole world unto himself; it not to terrorize the world in the name of the Lord.
