1 Samuel

It's Not Politics, It's Personal

It’s Not Politics, It’s Personal

October 27, 2024
1 Samuel 18:1-15 , 19:1-10, 20:32-33, 24:1-22, 26:1-25 (esp 19), Psalm 57

Saul ordered his son Jonathan and all his servants to kill David, but Jonathan, Saul’s son, liked David very much.  So Jonathan warned David, “My father Saul is trying to kill you. Be on guard tomorrow morning. Stay somewhere safe and hide.  I’ll go out and stand by my father in the field where you’ll be. I’ll talk to my father about you, and I’ll tell you whatever I find out.”

1 Samuel 19:1-3

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 “Don’t get political.”

This may be one of the most commonly heard statements by preachers from their congregations these days, and the truth is, it’s a much tougher order than one might think. 

First, the gospel is inherently political.  The first creed of the church, “Jesus is Lord,” is a statement of treason that declares “Caesar is not.”  This is the kind of thing that literally gets people killed as political opponents of the empire, and yet as Christians we are called to pledge our soul allegiance to Christ, not to our flag or nation, no matter how Godly we may think it is.

Second, most of the times I’ve heard this statement came in response to the scripture itself, not to any political statement I may or may not have made.  The Sermon on the Mount alone is filled with teachings that go against the grain of our individualistic and capitalistic culture.  All I have to do is read the verses and someone will say, “What radical Marxist or Socialist said that?”  The objector is usually not happy when I respond with “Jesus… see, it’s right here in the Red Letters.”

Third, and perhaps most importantly in our current political climate, is the truth that much of what we call political should not be political at all.  In fact, much of it is simply about how we treat one another as descent human beings, how we show respect and love for all people, neighbor and enemy alike.  These are fundamental truths of our faith and necessary for a healthy society, and yet to call out a candidate for dehumanizing a person or group of people is viewed as a partisan agenda.  When people make broad brush statements that paint those who vote differently as an enemy of the state, or even an enemy of the faith, as I have been called many times, they often don’t even realize that there are members of their own family who are afraid to speak to them because of their inflammatory, derogatory and violent rhetoric.  The truth is, it’s not political, it’s personal. 

King Saul viewed David as a political enemy and a threat to his power.  He wanted David’s head on the end of his spear.  In America, we may not typically shed the blood of our political opponents, but it has happened and could easily happen again if cooler heads cannot find a way to prevail in the public discourse.  One might say that as a King in his day, Saul had every right to kill any threat to his throne, and technically, that would be true.

For Saul’s son Jonathan, however, this wasn’t about politics at all.  David was his best friend.  His father’s rage was deeply personal and he risked everything to protect his friend from his own father.  How many families, friendships, communities, even churches, are torn apart by political divides.  Do we promote candidates that threaten harm to those we love? 

Politics is always personal.  Love must have the final say.

 

Who Will Protect Us?

Who Will Protect Us?

October 20, 2024
1 Samuel 16:14-23, 1 Samuel 17:32-58, Psalm 27

Then Saul dressed David in his own gear, putting a coat of armor on him and a bronze helmet on his head.  David strapped his sword on over the armor, but he couldn’t walk around well because he’d never tried it before. “I can’t walk in this,” David told Saul, “because I’ve never tried it before.” So he took them off.  He then grabbed his staff and chose five smooth stones from the streambed. He put them in the pocket of his shepherd’s bag and with sling in hand went out to the Philistine.

 1 Samuel 17:38-40

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One of the many idols of our time is the illusion of safety and security.  OK, maybe not always “illusion”.  Relatively speaking, we are probably safer on a day to day basis than many people in the world.  Most of us have good shelter, easily accessible food and water, no immediate physical threats, etc.  Not everyone in the world, or even in our own communities, can say the same. 

I say “illusion,” however, because no matter how hard we try, we cannot be fully protected from every possible harm in this life.  We can build our walls, increase our surveillance, develop better medical treatments, stockpile more money, etc. but there are always risks we cannot account for.

Our economy runs in large part on our desire to keep this illusion intact.  Marketers prey on our desire for safety and security by telling us that we will not really be safe and secure unless we have whatever they are selling, or put our trust in whatever person, organization, or corporation they are promoting.  We buy far more than we would ever need out of an irrational and often unrecognized fear that we may not already have enough.  We vote for leaders who promise to protect us from the most outlandish threats and conspiracies.  We hoard basic necessities during times of crisis or natural disaster leaving hardly anything left on the store shelves or at the gas pumps for those who probably need it more than we do.  There is almost nothing we won’t do when we feel like our safety and security is at risk. 

And then we meet David, a young boy with no military training and no weapons to speak of, preparing to put his life on the line against the greatest enemy his people had.  Even the king and his greatest soldiers were terrified of this Goliath.  So terrified and desperate in fact, that the king himself was willing to put a kid’s life on the line if it meant protecting himself.  But he makes a good show of it.  He offers the kid his royal armor, the best protection and security money could buy.  If David dies out there, it won’t be because the King didn’t do everything possible to guarantee his safety. 

But the armor doesn’t fit.  The weight overwhelms this small shepherd boy and cripples him.  He can’t even walk out onto the field and he can barely lift the sword.  David knew his source of protection was not the security the king or anybody else could offer him.  It was his trust in God alone.

Which begs the question, where is our armor, the things we cling to for safety and security, weighing us down?  When will we stop trusting in the weapons of this world to protect us and truly place our lives in the hands of the God we claim to trust? 

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I raise my eyes toward the mountains.
Where will my help come from? 
My help comes from the Lord, 
the maker of heaven and earth

~ Psalm 121:1-2 ~

 

Rest or React?

Rest or React?

October 13, 2024
1 Samuel 13:1-14, 1 Samuel 15:16-29, Psalm 40:1-17

The very moment Saul finished offering up the entirely burned offering, Samuel arrived. Saul went out to meet him and welcome him.  But Samuel said, “What have you done?”

“I saw that my troops were deserting,” Saul replied. “You hadn’t arrived by the appointed time, and the Philistines were gathering at Michmash.  I thought, The Philistines are about to march against me at Gilgal and I haven’t yet sought the Lord’s favor. So I took control of myself[ and offered the entirely burned offering.”

“How stupid of you to have broken the commands the Lord your God gave you!” Samuel told Saul. “The Lord would have established your rule over Israel forever, but now your rule won’t last.

1 Samuel 13:10-14a

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Saul’s army was deserting.  The enemy was at hand and the battle would surely be lost.  He knew the people needed assurance that God would be with them, but Samuel, the prophet, had not yet arrived to make the appropriate sacrifice and dedicate their battle to the Lord.  So Saul did what any rational leader might do, he stepped up and did what needed to be done.  He offered the sacrifice to rally his people and call upon God’s help.  So what’s the problem?

Samuel shows up a few minutes later and is furious.  From our perspective, this might just look like Samuel is whining because he didn’t get his moment in the spotlight. 

If I was running late to a church meal after church because I was talking with someone, I as the pastor would be grateful if someone else blessed the food and got started.  But Samuel looks like the pastor who comes in late and pitches a fit that they didn’t wait on him or her to say the prayer, as if the pastor was the only one who could offer the blessing. 

On the surface, this makes perfect sense, but God was doing something very different in Israel.  God is trying to clearly establish a hierarchy of power different than any other nation had known.  Rather than the human king having the final authority as was customary, God is establishing a nation where the King is under Divine authority.  In other nations, a prophet could be executed for challenging the king, but in Israel, it was the prophet who would have the final word because it was the prophet who spoke on behalf of God. 

Samuel wasn’t simply throwing a tantrum for not getting to do his part in offering the sacrifice.  His anger reflected God’s disappointment that King Saul chose to elevate himself to a position of final authority, no longer accountable to the prophet, and by extension, to God. 

Saul suffered from a disease we all struggle with.  It’s been called “just-do-something-itus.”  In other words, we are quick to become impatient and want to act immediately.  We speak when we should be silent.  We make careless decisions instead of taking the time to study, to listen, and to discern a wiser course of action.  We react to the perceived danger in the moment instead of resting in the God who promises to stand with us in the fire.  We let our emotions take the driver’s seat and act out of our desire to be in control instead of a place of humility and surrender. 

We always have a choice. 

Will we react in our own strength or rest in God?

 

We Want a King

We Want a King!

October 6, 2024
Judges 21:25, 1 Samuel 8:1-22 (especially v. 5, 19-20)

In those days there was no king in Israel; each person did what they thought to be right.

Judges 21:25

But the people refused to listen to Samuel and said, “No! There must be a king over us so we can be like all the other nations. Our king will judge us and lead us and fight our battles.”

1 Samuel 8:19-20

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We no longer cry out for a King, but we are still crying for our leaders to fight our battles for us.  We expect our politicians and our military leaders to protect us from other nations, to protect our jobs and our bank accounts, to keep us healthy and well-fed and educated, to maintain a comfortable infrastructure of roads and schools and public servants, etc., and to uphold a particular moral and ethical code for society to function freely.

Though we all have different ideas about how our leaders should go about meeting these needs, how they should fund their projects, and how involved they should be in our everyday life... we are all ultimately  asking for... or voting for the same thing.... We want leaders who will make us strong and competitive like "other nations" and who will "fight our battles for us".... whether our battles against foreign governments, against poverty, against sickness, against crime... against anything that may disrupt our comfortable lives.

Israel’s rejection of God was to have a King like other nations which had ultimate authority over them to  protect them as he saw fit, just like other kings did.  Our leaders are not so powerful... there are limits... checks and balances built into the system... and we view our "kings" as representative of our interests, no matter how diverse and even incompatible those interests may be.

By expecting our leaders to represent us and rule based on what "we the people" deem right and wrong, have we actually reverted to the period of the Judges?

Is it possible that a government "for the people, by the people" is just another way of saying that "each person does what is right in their own eyes..." and that we legitimize it by seeking political representation to make law reflective of what "is right in our eyes".

If this is indeed the case, might our pride and our failures in the American experiment of "self-government" simply be the result of our original sin.... the fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil and our innate desire to decide for ourselves.... above any king or ruler.... and even above God himself, what is good and evil... and what is right and wrong for us?

And so we find ourselves at a crossroads.  We are living in crisis much like the children of Israel and we have a choice to make.  Will we continue to cry out for a King... whether absolute or merely representative of our own opinions and desires or will we accept that we have had the perfect King all along... that God’s covenant with us still stands... that God has invited us to become citizens of a Divine Kingdom which is not of this world.... and that our very lives depend not on who is in charge of the laws on earth, but rather on how well we obey the laws of Heaven!

Thy Kingdom Come, Thy Will be done... on earth as it is in Heaven.  Amen.

 

Just Your Boy


Just Your Boy
Let the Children Come - Part 4
Sunday, August 28, 2022
1 Samuel 16:1-23, 1 Timothy 4:12

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.”

 1 Samuel 16:11 (CEB)

Listen to this week’s sermon here:

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Though he didn’t become king until around the age of 30, David was most likely between 8 and 15 when Samuel first called him in from the fields and anointed him as Saul’s successor to the throne of Israel.  He was quite literally “just a boy”.  He was so young and insignificant, in fact, that his father didn’t even see the point in bringing him along when Samuel invited his family to the sacrifice.  While his father and older brothers were going through the ritual purification to be cleansed before God for worship, young David was out in the fields with the sheep composing psalms of praise. 

How appropriate that God would use Samuel, himself called as a child, to anoint another child king over all Israel.  We know the stories of David’s heroism, how he defeated Goliath and the Philistine army with just a sling and a stone, and how he united the tribes of Israel and strengthened the whole nation with its most expansive borders ever from Dan to Beersheba.  We know how he spent so much of his life on the run from King Saul who sought to kill him because he was a threat to his own dynasty, despite God’s clear ruling that Saul’s family would no longer reign in Israel due to his own sin.  And we see David at his lowest point, committing adultery and murder to attain what he couldn’t have.  We read and sing his psalms of praise and lament, of joy and of repentance.  Yet despite all his accomplishments and all his mistakes, in the end only one thing mattered… He was just God’s beloved child singing praises in the field.

As you look at your own life, your highs and lows, what matters most to you?  What matters most to God?

 

Heaven's Whisper


Heaven’s Whisper
Let the Children Come - Part 3
Sunday, August 21, 2022
1 Samuel 3:1-21

Then the Lord came and stood there, calling just as before, “Samuel, Samuel!”

Samuel said, “Speak. Your servant is listening.”

1 Samuel 3:10 (CEB)

Listen to this week’s sermon here:

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According to the religious hierarchies of the day, the people who should have heard God's voice in this story were Eli and his sons.  They were the authorities, the ultimate insiders by birth and by vocation.  But they were not the ones God chose.

 Instead, God chose Samuel.  A child.  A boy on the periphery, one whose capacity for openness and wonder was dulled, perhaps, but still recoverable.  A child who wasn't bound by the political interests of his elders.  A child who could tolerate an unfamiliar voice and an uncomfortable message — a message that would upend the very institution he knew best.

Debie Thomas, journeywithjesus.net (Lectionary Essays)

The historian Josephus writes that Samuel was likely around 12 years old when he heard God’s call, and as we might imagine, he was extremely confused.  He had been raised in the home of a priest and knew all of the inner workings of the religious system, but he also had a front row seat to the scandals and brokenness even within the priest’s own family.

The system was so broken, in fact, that the writer says in verse 1 that the word of the Lord was rare in those days.  How tragic, that this 12 year old boy whose mother dedicated his life to the service of God and who quite literally grew up in the church, would not recognize God’s voice and in fact would find himself quite surprised to hear a word from God at all. 

And yet if we consider our own lives, especially among those who have spent most of our lives in church, I wonder if we should not be so surprised after all.  I’ve met people who sat in churches for 80 years who had never heard of Jacob (Abraham’s grandson and the father of the 12 tribes of Israel).  Biblical illiteracy is as common in the church if not more-so than in the culture at large.  We take our identity as God’s people for granted to the point that we no longer actively listen for God’s voice.  It’s almost as if God has already said all there is to say.  We believe the Bible, even if we don’t read it or actually know what it says.  What more do we need?

What if what we need is the open heart, the discerning ear, and the humble yet courageous voice of a child to remind us that God is not finished talking yet?  And maybe, just maybe, God’s word is not as rare as we may think in our world today.  Maybe it is simply being heard by those who choose to ignore it, or those who don’t recognize it, or even worse, those who know it and speak it while we ignore them because they are too young, or too different, too radical, or too unexpected a person to carry the message of God to those of us who think we know better.