Struggling With God
Sermon
Where Once We Feared Enemies
Inclusive Membership, Prophetic Vision, And The American Church
These sermons are taken from a series on 1 Samuel. Thematically, they pick up on the tone of disorientation experienced by Mary when, confronted by the risen Jesus, she is unable to recognize him. In these sermons on God's journey with Israel, especially through the leadership of Samuel, the people of God share Mary's disorientation in their encounters with God. They must continually rediscover that the living God who has called them into relationship is not identical with their expectations. Israel and Samuel are both continually disconcerted and surprised at how God chooses to move in fulfilling God's promises. For Stroupe, these biblical stories confront us as realistic accounts of the continued struggle of disorientation and surprise experienced by all God's people in their journey through history with the living God.
God In A Box
1 Samuel 4:5-22
June 28, 1998
How many of you have seen the movie, Raiders Of The Lost Ark? Raise your hands. All right, just about everybody. The ark that is in the movie is the ark that is being described in today's scripture passage. It is a central part of chapter 4 of 1 Samuel. It's really a big box, about the size of our communion table, and it is very important in Israel's history. Exodus 25 tells us that Moses made the Ark of the Covenant as a container for the Ten Commandments. Numbers and Joshua tell us that the Israelite people were led through the wilderness into the promised land, with the Ark of the Covenant going before them. Over the years, it came to be seen as the place where God lived. Where is God? Where can you be the closest to God? In the Ark of the Covenant, God comes to be identified with the Ark.
In our scripture passage for today, we see the battle with the Philistines being lost, and so the Israelites pull out all the stops. They bring the Ark of the Covenant into battle with the Philistines. The Philistines are a difficult enemy for Israel. They've appeared previously in the Hebrew Scriptures. Samson fought against them in the book of Judges. They will continue to plague Israel throughout the history of the Hebrew Scriptures. Indeed, David rises to power as king of Israel because he is able to contain the Philistines. Not even the great David, however, can conquer the Philistines.
This struggle between Israel and the Philistines has had a profound effect on the Western world. One of the dictionary definitions of a Philistine is a person who is a slug, a person who has no cultural or aesthetic value. They would be called a "Philistine." But even more important for the west -- and indeed the entire world -- the Romans used a word in Latin to describe the area where the Philistines lived. That Latin word is Palestina, and that Latin word has come to be used to describe the entire area west of the Jordan River, "Palestine." So, even to this day, the ancient history and the ancient enmity between Israel and the Philistines continues. The Israelites continue to be in deadly conflict with their ancient enemy, the Philistines, now called the Palestinians. This conflict affects all of us. Modern Israel has indicated "never again" -- we will never yield our land again. We will never yield to the Philistines, to the Palestinians. And Israel has the bomb, and we know that they may take us to the brink and beyond before they yield their land again.
This is one of the legacies of today's scripture. Its roots are deep in ancient history and long-seated conflict and even today it bears bitter fruit. Our scripture for today is one of bitterness and despair and death. A few weeks ago, Caroline asked me what I was preaching on this Sunday so that she could prepare the packets for the children during worship. She read the passage, came back, and said, "Are you sure that you want to preach on this passage?" And, my answer was, "Yes, I do."
The prophecy given to Eli in chapter 2 of 1 Samuel by an unknown prophet, and the vision given to Eli through the young boy Samuel in chapter 3, these are now fulfilled in chapter 4, as was indicated in the scripture reading today. Both of Eli's sons are killed on the same day. The sons, Phineas and Hophni, who are supposed to carry on the priestly line of their father Eli, have instead led the people into idolatry. As we see in this fourth chapter, this idolatry leads to death for these sons, and for the people of Israel.
Now, that's bad enough, to lose both of your sons on the same day. But for Eli and for Israel, things are much worse. Not only are the sons killed, not only do the Philistines win the battle, but they capture God! They capture the Ark of the Covenant, where God lives. The mighty God that defeated Pharaoh, their God is now captured by the Philistines, and the Ark of the Covenant is taken into the Philistine camp. It is unimaginable for the Israelites. God is captured. It is terrible, debilitating, annihilating news. It is so disturbing that when Eli hears it, he falls over dead. It is so disheartening that when the pregnant wife of Phineas hears the news, she goes into labor, gives birth to a son, naming him Ichabod, meaning, "the glory has vanished," and then she dies. How would you like to be Ichabod and remember your birthday? To remember the death of your mother, the death of your father, your uncle, your grandfather, and worst of all, the capture of God! It is a story that ends in disaster for Israel. The priestly line is destroyed, the Ark where God lives is captured, and death and despair win the day.
This story speaks of a fundamental shift for Israel in its view of God. To us in the modern world, it may seem silly to talk about God living in a box. But we must remember how important the Ark of the Covenant has been for Israel. It contains the Law, which is at the center of their lives, and it has led them through the wilderness and into the promised land. God came to be identified with this box, and Israel came to identify itself with this box. When they start losing the battle to their ancient foe, the Philistines, they call God out to help them. They call God out to help them in the fight. Since this is God's land, and since this is God's home, surely God will fight for them against the Philistines. Surely God is on their side and will bring them victory.
There is great despair in Israel when the Ark is captured, for it means that God has failed. God has been captured. It is a terrible lesson for Israel. They will begin to learn, as we will learn, in the next chapters of 1 Samuel, that God is more than the Ark of the Covenant. God doesn't live in the box. God is not limited to the box where the Israelites thought God lived. God is not defeated by the capture of the Ark of the Covenant. Indeed, the Philistines, and the Israelites, come to learn that God still has power. Chapters 5 and 6 of 1 Samuel tell us intriguing stories about people who touch that Ark, about the plagues that came to the Philistine camp because the Ark of the Covenant is in their midst. The Philistines finally end up sending the Ark back to Israel. "You can have this thing," they say. "It is a curse on us!" They send great gifts to Israel to induce them to take back this box. God is moving in ways that Israel could not imagine, and though there is death and despair in Israel, God is moving. God has already called a new leader, Samuel, even before the Ark is captured. In chapter 7, we will see his leadership. Israel learns a difficult lesson about trying to box God in, about trying to confine God, about trying to put God in a place where we know God belongs.
This story speaks to God's people in every age about the peril of trying to keep God in a box, of believing that we've got God figured out and boxed in. We all tend to try to identify God with our beliefs, with our approaches to life. We want to think that God likes the way we live. We try to get God to fit into the boxes in our lives. We try to keep God boxed up and sometimes up on the shelf. When we really need God, when things get rough in our lives, we want to bring God off the shelf to help us, hoping that God will bless our visions and our dreams, just as the Israelites hoped in their battle with the Philistines. We feel better because we bring the God-box out, and we know that God will bring victory to us. Today's story in 1 Samuel points to the dangers of that process, of seeking to keep God in a box, whether the box we use is the Ark of the Covenant, whether it's skin color, whether it's money or economic status or gender or sexual orientation or nationality or any of those other boxes that we use to seek to confine God. This story reminds us in a stark way that God is deeper and wider and broader than our categories. God is not male. God is not white. All of those kinds of categories that we like to use for God are shattered by this story. We are reminded that God doesn't fit into those boxes.
When we seek to put God in a box, as Israel sought to do, when we bring God off the shelf to defend our categories, we often find that our boxes and our categories are shattered and scattered. We often face the death and despair and destruction and loss of meaning that Israel faced when the Ark of the Covenant was captured. Eli fell over and died not because his sons were killed but because God had been captured.
What Israel learned, and what we are asked to learn, is that God is not confined to our boxes and our categories. God is much more than we can ever imagine. A lesson like this is often bad news for us. It was for Israel when they learned that the Ark of the Covenant did not confine God. It is a difficult revelation when we learn that our categories do not fully contain and confine God. That's hard to hear. I still think of God as a man. Everybody knows that God is male -- Big Daddy in the sky. But I've had many revelations that remind me that God is not male. I also thought for a long time that God is white. I've had difficult revelations that remind me that God is not white. And I surely believed that God is middle class. Yet, I've had difficult revelations to remind me that God is not middle class. It is in these kinds of revelations that despair and the abyss of death often visit us. It is difficult, a humbling process. That's what Israel experienced in this story. It's often bad news when we find out that God is not in the box that we thought God was in.
Yet, this lesson is also good news. The good news that God will not be captured by our boxes. God will not be captured by the Philistines of this world. And, even more, there is the good news that God will not be confined by the Christians of this world. God doesn't ordain that white men should rule the world. God doesn't ordain that people who have money should rule the world. Those are our categories and our beliefs. To have these revelations is difficult, but it is also good news. It gives us the ability to go out into the world and struggle with the principalities and powers, following God who is already out there, not sitting in the boxes where we thought God was. It's good news that God is powerful beyond our categories, that God continues to move and to work, even when we are wallowing in despair and resentment.
There is some other good news in this revelation, the good news that God won't give up on us, even as we wallow in despair, even as we are mad at God for not staying in our boxes. God won't give up on us. The capture of the Ark of the Covenant does not end Israel's story. Indeed, that story is really just beginning. God already has plans for this loose confederacy of tribes, even as the Ark is captured. God has already called forth a new leader named Samuel. Samuel's waiting. So is David. So is Isaiah. So is Huldah. So is Mary, the mother of Jesus, and John the Baptist. And Jesus. And Martha and Peter and Priscilla and Paul and a whole host of witnesses throughout the generations. Witnesses who have responded to the God who has moved out of the boxes, into our hearts and into the world. God's work with the covenant people is just beginning in this story in 1 Samuel, a story that seems so full of despair and death. God is already moving into new places. The story of God and God's people will be reformed and reshaped again and again and again, and it continues this morning. It's being reshaped in our hearts today, in the hearing and the sharing of this story.
That reformation is bad news on one level, because we brought a lot of categories into worship this morning, categories that we'd like to use to confine God. But God is constantly moving beyond us, out of our boxes, deeper into our hearts and into the world. Yet, it is profoundly good news on another level. The God we see in this story, not captured by the Philistines, not confined by the Israelites or the Christians, is still moving in our lives. The God who emerges in this story is the rock of our salvation. This is an ancient and old and despairing story. The enmity between the Israelites and the Philistines continues at this very moment. And the God who moves in our midst and in their midst continues to shatter our categories and our boxes, calling us to find our true place and true identity. Who are we? We're God's people, able to struggle with the categories of the world, seeking to find God's truth and God's grace in our midst. We are asked to hear that God will shatter our categories if we begin to worship them and seek to confine God to them. But, we are also asked to hear the good news that God will not give up on us, that God will supply the grace and power for us to live outside the boxes and the categories. God will help us to live as God's people. We are the people of God. Let us follow God into all kinds of places that we thought we could never go, would never go. There we will find God already waiting for us. Amen.
Living Between God And Egypt
1 Samuel 8:1-22
July 12, 1998
This is an important chapter in the history of Israel. It notes the beginning of Israel as a nation, and it is filled with ambiguity and ambivalence. What's recorded here is not July fourth fireworks and not great thanksgiving for the memory of the beginning of the monarchy. What is recorded here is a sense of loss. Why do we have a king? Why are we living like this? This chapter seeks to answer those questions. It indicates both blessing and curse in this development.
Samuel, the great prophet and judge, has grown old, as we heard in this morning's scripture. In a touch of irony, Samuel's sons are like the sons of Samuel's predecessor, Eli. They are corrupt and self-seeking. The elders of the tribes of Israel rise up and ask for a king so that the corruption will end. The emphasis here is that justice is being perverted. We must note that the demand for a king arises not out of an external military threat but rather from an internal threat -- the loss of justice, the collapse of the system which brings justice. As we learned from chapter 7 last week, God delivered the tribes of Israel from the Philistines not to establish a powerful nation that ruled the world, but rather to establish justice. And now, that justice is being perverted.
Samuel reacts with anger and sadness at the request of these elders. He is angry that after all he has done for these tribes of Israel, he, and his line, are being rejected by the people. They don't want his sons. He is sad because he knows why they don't want his sons. His sons have failed. Does Samuel now understand what his mentor Eli felt when Eli's sons perverted justice, and Samuel replaced them? Does Samuel now understand how difficult and complex it is to try to pass from one generation to the next the values and beliefs of the past?
Yet, even as Samuel feels dejected and rejected, he remembers who he is. He is a servant of God, and he takes his concern to God, who is at the center of his life. Israel is not the center of Samuel's life, God is. Samuel prays to God about this request for a king from these elders, and he receives a stunning answer. "You shall answer their request in the affirmative. And, don't feel rejected, Samuel. It is not you who is being rejected. It is what you represent that is being rejected." What Samuel represents is the tradition of a people who have sought to center their lives on the God who brought them out of Egypt, who delivered them from the Philistines. What God tells Samuel is that Israel is rejecting its own center, its own identity. Israel is not rejecting Samuel. Israel is rejecting God.
God also tells Samuel something else. This desire for a king is nothing new for Israel. The rejection of God is nothing new. It continues a long history of the people of God seeking security at the price of freedom. "Ever since I brought them out of slavery in Egypt, they have wanted to go back there," God tells Samuel. Indeed, if we go back to Exodus to read the account of Israel's release from slavery, we will find that they are often dragged into freedom, kicking and screaming.
In chapter 14 of Exodus when Pharaoh's soldiers are pressing down on Israel, and Israel's back is to the sea, they are terrified. They cry out to Moses,
Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you have taken us away to die in the wilderness? What have you done to us, bringing us out of Egypt? Is this not the very thing we told you in Egypt, "Let us alone and let us serve the Egyptians"? For it would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the wilderness.
-- Exodus 14:11-12
And then God delivers them by parting the sea, and Pharaoh's soldiers drown. They begin their journey to freedom, but they are hungry. They don't have any food. They cry out again to Moses,
If only we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots and ate our fill of bread; for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger.
-- Exodus 16:3
In Exodus chapter 22, while Moses is up on Mount Sinai receiving the law that will become Israel's guide, the people of Israel are making a golden calf to worship. Gold and money always seem to be rivals for God in our hearts, don't they? Whether we're in the wilderness 3,000 years ago or whether we're sitting in this congregation this morning, this rivalry remains strong.
Throughout the book of Judges, and as we have seen in 1 Samuel, the Israelites are trying to balance the worship of their God with the worship of the Canaanite gods. They do this not because they are so bad and evil. They do this because life can be so fierce; because the powers and principalities are so intimidating; because the people's anxieties are so high. Let us remember that the people ask Samuel for a king not because of a military threat, but because justice has been perverted. They want justice to be established. They believe that if they can get a king, then justice will be re-established. It is a naive belief on one level, but it is rooted in desperation. We must note that these are not mean, stubborn people, openly defying God. They are regular folks just like us, encountering the chaos of life, repelled by the injustice and corruption all around them. They're trying to find a little bit of stability in their lives. We have to be careful not to dehumanize or stereotype these folks as weak or mean or lusting for power and profit, especially considering how often Christians have done such stereotyping of Judaism. Israel remembers chapter 8 of 1 Samuel because it speaks to each generation, and it speaks to us.
God wants Samuel to make it clear to God's people the cost of this kind of step. They will get what they want. They will get a king. They will get a Pharaoh, but they will have to return to the slavery of Egypt in order to do it. Samuel lays it out for the people. It is a gruesome narrative characterizing the centralization of power in a king. The people's property will be taken. Their sons will be forced to serve in the army. Their daughters will be at the disposal of the king. Samuel ends his warning with difficult words. "You will sell yourselves back into slavery." And yet, despite this stern warning, the people cry out, "Give us a king!"
We now have to make a decision on how to interpret this story. These people are either incredibly stupid, or there is something else going on here, something that the authors of 1 Samuel want each generation to remember and to ponder. What the authors of 1 Samuel want us to know is that in each generation, and in each of us, there is this same struggle between wanting to live in Egypt and wanting to have God at the center of our lives. The authors of 1 Samuel are reminding us that we all seek to live between God and Egypt, and it is a difficult journey.
Our lives should be a circle with God at the center. Most often, though, our lives are an ellipse that has two centers, Egypt and God. We often try to live between these two centers. We spend our lives going back and forth, wanting to feel secure and yet wanting freedom, often seeking to answer our anxieties by selling ourselves back into slavery. But, we also want to continue to experience what Israel experienced, the God who calls them and pulls them back into freedom.
We see many signs of this process in our time. After the Civil Rights Movement of the 1950s and 1960s, with its emphasis on freedom and equality, for a couple of decades now we've had a movement to go back to Egypt. "Let's go back to the traditional values. We don't need the NAACP anymore. We don't need all this talk about freedom. Let's go back to a time when life was simpler, when everybody knew where his or her place was. Women knew their places back then. Poor people knew their places back then. Comfortable people knew their places back then. It was a time when black folk and gay and lesbian folk weren't in your faces. Let's go back to Egypt."
It reminds me of a Garfield comic strip. Garfield is a caped crusader, and he's got this mask on, and he breaks into a pet store. All of the animals are in cages, of course, and Garfield begins to open the doors of the cages, saying, "You're free! You're free!" But all the animals just sit there in the cages. Garfield ponders what to do for a while, and then he starts slamming the doors of the cages, saying, "You're safe! You're safe!" He goes out the door saying, "We aren't much into freedom these days."
This certainly seems to be true on a societal level. Like the people of Israel, we see injustice and corruption all around us, and we often want to move back into Egypt in order to deal with it. It also describes the struggle in our individual lives, how we seek to live between God and Egypt. Each of us has our own pain, our own struggles, and our own anxieties that bring us to worship today. We're each trying to work out our own journeys as we seek to live between Egypt and God. We want to answer our anxieties with a place that feels safe, but often our answer is a quick trip to slavery, causing us to lose touch with our center, which is God. Yet, God continues to call us and pull us toward freedom, toward our center, our true home, which is God.
We must all work out our own compromises on this journey. As Paul says, we must all work out our salvation with fear and trembling, and the focus of our work is in trying to live between Egypt and God. Our children were both on the safety patrol when they were in elementary school, and they often had to lead the Pledge of Allegiance. As their time of leadership approached, they came to me to discuss it. They wanted to discuss it because they had noticed at sporting events that I had not put my hand over my heart when the Pledge of Allegiance was said. After those sporting events, they asked me, "Daddy, why don't you put your hand over your heart like everyone else?" I replied that I didn't mind pledging allegiance to the nation but that my heart belonged to God. I also told them that I wanted them to remember that. When they got to be officers on the safety patrol, the problem emerged. They were supposed to lead the school in the pledge, and they were supposed to put their hands over their hearts. They now asked me, "What should we do?" I told them my preference. I preferred that they not put their hands over their hearts. Yet, I also told them that this would have to be their decision, which they would have to work out for themselves. This is what they came up with. They took their hands and put them almost on their hearts, not quite touching themselves. They managed to appear to put their hands on their hearts, all the while preserving their own sense of not quite giving total allegiance to the nation.
For me, it is a metaphor of how we all try to live between Egypt and God. We don't want to lose either center, so we try to keep them both. That's what my children tried to do on the safety patrol. That's what I try to do every day. That's what most of us try to do. That's what Israel tried to do. That's what we all find ourselves trying to do, living between Egypt and God.
Our passage today reminds us of this dilemma as we seek to live with these two centers of our lives. Israel remembers this passage not because it wants us to know how stupid its ancestors are, but rather because it wants us to know how human they are, how similar to us they are. It is a dilemma, this life with two centers. There are many benefits to living in Egypt. Indeed, Israel prospers under the monarchy. Saul drives back the Philistines and begins to set the borders. David, the second king, unites the nation and establishes Jerusalem as its center and its capital. Solomon, the son of David, has great economic development and builds the great temple that becomes the center of Judaism.
This passage also reminds us, however, that after those three kings, the nation falls apart and splits. It reminds Israel and us of the cost of living in Egypt. Israel moves away from its center, who is God, and moves back into slavery. This occurs first in its own midst under its own kings, who do just what Samuel said they would. Then Israel moves into exile and slavery in Babylon.
This passage gives us a stern warning about seeking to live between God and Egypt. Yet, for all its warning, this passage continues to remind us that God is in the midst of these people. It is God who says "Yes" to the monarchy. This passage, and the entire biblical story, points us to a fundamental fact of our lives, whether we live in Israel many thousands of years ago or whether we're here this morning. Though we try to live in Egypt, God will not let us alone. Though we try to push God from the center of our lives, God remains at the center. God will not leave us alone. God will not give up on us. We do sell ourselves into slavery in order to feel safe and secure, but God continues to call us back into freedom. We put our toes into the waters of freedom. We put our toes into the waters of freedom for just a little while, then we run back to the safety of Egypt. But God continues to kindle our thirst, and we return to the waters of life, this time to put a knee in; then, sooner or later, to be immersed in the waters of life and freedom.
It will be a rugged journey for us, as we all know. The internal voices and pressures inside each of us and the voices of the principalities and the powers outside ourselves are powerful and scary. They ask us to accept the simplistic answers, answers in which a certain group of people make all the decisions, where the power is not distributed, where justice is interpreted to mean giving the powerful what they want. In a time like this, when people want simple answers, we're asked to remember that life is complex. In a time when folks want to set up enemies so that they can be blamed, we're asked to remember that we are those who are called to love people that we deem as enemies. In a time when we're told that society is collapsing because black folk have left their place, because women have left home, and because gay and lesbian persons have been affirmed just a little bit, we are called to remember that it is the rapacious appetite of a consumer society that sees all of life as a commodity, it is this appetite that is causing society to collapse. It is a time when we hear those voices in ourselves that tell us that we cannot trust God, that we must come on over to the idols of the world and find our way back to Egypt, then we must remember God's movement in our lives and listen for God's voice in our midst. It is the voice telling us that the only way we can find real safety and real security, the only way we can find life, is by touching the one who is at the center of our lives, the God we know in Jesus Christ.
These authors of 1 Samuel know what they are doing in this story when they include these ambivalent words about kingship in the sacred text of scripture. This story is as contemporary as this morning's newspaper, or in this electronic age, as today's e-mail. Israel sought to live between God and Egypt, and so do we. That's a curse for us, but it is also a blessing. God is part of our struggle and will not give up on us. The biblical promise is that God is in the midst of our struggle; that God will not give up on us. God continues to call us and pull us, as God pulled Israel, as God pulled the followers of Jesus. God continues to pull us, to call us into freedom, into life, into the center of our lives, who is the true God. Amen.
Slouching Toward Bethlehem
1 Samuel 16:1-13
August 30, 1998
In the famous Christmas carol by Phillips Brooks, we see a little town awaiting the birth of a Savior. "O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie. Above thy deep and dreamless sleep, the silent stars go by."1 But in today's passage in 1 Samuel, we see a grim picture of Bethlehem. As Bethlehem waits in this story, there is grief and confusion and feelings of loss all around. To borrow a line from the Irish poet William Butler Yeats, Samuel "slouches toward Bethlehem."2
Samuel is grieving. He and his line of leadership have been rejected by the people of Israel, who want a king. And Saul, the king whom Samuel selected under God's direction, has now been rejected by God. Israel is now in limbo. It has a king who still reigns but who has been rejected by God. Samuel goes back to Ramah, grieving over Saul and over Israel. Indeed, he sees no future for Israel. Samuel grieves over the kingship, which he did not want in the first place, over the king who did not want to become king and who has now been rejected as king by God. Samuel grieves over the shortsightedness of the people of Israel who rejected God and wanted a king. And now, God has rejected that very king, Saul. What is going on? What will happen? Is all lost?
In the midst of this grief and despair comes the power of God. God tells Samuel, "Get up. There's work to be done. I've already got a new king picked out." Samuel is less than enthusiastic. He has been through this with God before. In the present circumstances, Samuel's grief and despair make him see disaster everywhere. There is no good news. Not even God can turn this situation around. When God tells Samuel to get up and get going, Samuel digs in his heels. "I won't go! How can I go to Bethlehem and anoint a new king? If Saul, the current king -- the king you chose, the king you rejected -- hears about it, he will kill me."
It is an interesting shift in Samuel. Up until now in the book of 1 Samuel, he has been a fierce warrior-prophet who has hounded and tormented Saul as king. He has never been afraid of Saul. But now, when God orders him to Bethlehem, he trembles in fear. His knees are knocking. "I can't go down there!" Samuel sees no hope. In his grief and sadness, his fear has gotten the best of him. He resists God's invitation to go to Bethlehem. God offers him a way out. "You're a circuit-riding preacher, aren't you? Just go down to Bethlehem and have a revival. Pitch your tent, invite everybody in, and give Jesse a special invitation -- Jesse and his sons." Samuel does what God commands him to do. He reluctantly slouches toward Bethlehem. He doesn't go to Bethlehem full of joy and anticipation. Finally, God is moving. There's going to be renewal in Israel, a great revival that begins in Bethlehem! No, Samuel doesn't go to Bethlehem in this frame of mind. He slouches to Bethlehem, full of fear and dread of what will happen.
The authors of this story in 1 Samuel well understand what it means to be a human being, and they emphasize it in this passage. The authors want us to note here that even the great Samuel had struggles. We must recall the esteem in which Samuel is held. The biblical books that contain the stories of the great king, David, are not called 1 and 2 David -- they are called 1 and 2 Samuel in the Hebrew Scriptures. Samuel commands great respect in the memory of Israel, but here the authors emphasize the struggles in his heart. Here, on the way to Bethlehem, Samuel is in turmoil, and he slouches toward Bethlehem. We see a humorous story of Samuel's entry into the little town of Bethlehem. He is fearful, looking over his shoulder for the spies of Saul who may hear what he is going to Bethlehem to do. In the town of Bethlehem itself, the elders hear that the powerful and dangerous Samuel is approaching their town. They do not know that Samuel's knees are knocking. They only know the fierce warrior-prophet who has served God so well and who has so recently hacked King Agag to death in chapter 15. This Samuel is coming to Bethlehem. They, too, come out in fear to meet Samuel. "Do you come in peace?" They ask it with hope and prayer. We have, then, a comic scene of a proud warrior slouching toward Bethlehem, trembling in fear, knees knocking. The elders come out to greet him. They are trembling, and their knees are knocking, bumbling, filled with fear, taking one step forward and two steps backward.
And there are even more surprises for Samuel when he arrives. Not only is God sending him to this hick town, to this little place in Judah, but things don't go well, either. The sons of Jesse are paraded before Samuel, and as each one passes before him, he expects to feel God's Spirit. "This is the one. Look how tall he is!" Now, I understand why that one was rejected. I don't know why the others were rejected, but it makes sense to a short guy like me why the tall Eliab was rejected. No, he's not the one. Then Abinadab -- no, he's not the one. Then Shammah -- no, he's not the one. Then four more sons are brought before Samuel and inspected and rejected. None of them is the one. Nothing happens. All of the sons of Jesse are paraded before Samuel, and nothing happens. There is no voice from God telling Samuel that this is the one. Samuel is wondering, "What is happening? Does God know what he is doing? Have I risked my life coming down to this little town for nothing?"
In desperation Samuel asks Jesse, "Are there any sons left?" "Well, yes, there's a little boy out there, tending the sheep, but he doesn't belong in this lottery for the kingship. He's too young. He's just a boy." Samuel orders that the young boy be brought before him, and he is astonished to feel God's Spirit when he sees this shepherd boy. "This is the one -- get up and anoint him!" "This is the one? God, you have got to be kidding; a little shepherd boy -- king of Israel?" Not even the clever and battle-hardened Samuel is ready for this. Samuel undoubtedly believes that God has lost his mind, but he follows God's Spirit. He anoints a young boy as king of Israel, a boy named David.
The authors of 1 Samuel want us to remember that it is not Samuel who saves Israel. It is not Moses who saves Israel. It is not Deborah who saves Israel. It is not even David who saves Israel. It is God, who is moving in these kinds of vessels, who saves Israel. God's choice for the next king of Israel emphasizes Israel's dependency upon God. A mere child is chosen to be king, a child who will have to be nurtured and protected and taught. No strong warrior like Eliab, no powerful son like Abinadab, but rather a little shepherd boy named David, who will have to be protected and taught by God and, yes, by Samuel. It is the clearest sign yet that the destiny of Israel is not in Samuel's hands, not in Saul's hands, not in David's hands. Israel's destiny is in God's hands.
Samuel slouches toward Bethlehem and finds astonishing news. I understand his fear and reluctance well. As I was reading this story in chapter 16 of 1 Samuel, I was reminded of my first pastorate with my wife in a small church. A couple of weeks after we came to be pastors there, we had our first session meeting. Toward the end of the meeting, the elders told us that there was something that we needed to know. They indicated that they were fairly certain that the church treasurer had been embezzling money from the church. They had discovered it several months earlier but were waiting on us to arrive in order to solve it.
We made plans to go to the treasurer's home to discuss it. The treasurer was an elder who had rotated off the Session, and his wife was actively involved in the church. I saw disaster looming before me. The church had only twelve members anyway, and if we lost two of them, we weren't going to be in good shape. I dreaded going out to see him. I put off calling him for a couple of days, and finally, I made the call, not telling him the purpose of the visit. I was mad at the elders for not taking care of it before we arrived. Here I was an inexperienced minister, and I was being thrown into the fire that could devour this little church, and perhaps more to the point of my fear, could devour me. I was filled with fear and dread and anger. I was physically ill the night before we went to visit him.
When we got to his house, we had a time of chatting and getting acquainted. As we talked, I learned that he was an avid hunter. And, as we talked, I looked around the room, and I noticed shotguns and crossbows and rifles hanging on the walls. I can tell from your laughter that you have already discerned what I was imagining. I said, "O God, save me!" My knees were knocking, my heart was pounding, and my voice was trembling. Finally, I brought up the purpose of our visit and the subject of the money. And God did save us. God did redeem the moment. The treasurer admitted his guilt, seeing this as an opportunity to stop the madness and lift up his errors. He admitted his guilt, and he made restitution to the church, and he stayed in the church.
I was stunned that evening and stunned throughout the process. God had moved through my wife and me. We were not eager vessels for God's action. We were not enthusiastic, ready to go out and convict the sinner, ready to witness for Jesus. We were reluctant, grumpy, and scared, slouching toward the treasurer's house. Yet, God acted through us. God redeemed the moment. Not because of us -- we obviously were not ready or eager vessels -- but rather through us.
I think this is the point of the story of chapter 16 of 1 Samuel, the story of the transition from Samuel to Saul to David. This whole saga is grounded in the power and initiative and the surprises of God. It affirms, it asserts -- indeed, it demands -- that we hear that God is working in our lives. Not always when we're fierce and fight for justice, not always when we're ready to go out and save the world, but in the midst of our struggles. God is working in us. Our task, then, is not to make ourselves perfect. Samuel was far from perfect. He was discouraged and grieving. He did not want to go to Bethlehem. He tried to get out of going, but he finally went.
As the story of Samuel demonstrates, we are often weak vessels for God. Paradoxically, it is our strength that sometimes causes the problem. It's often our strength that makes us weak. It's the idea that we know the answer, that we always know what should be done, as Samuel thought he knew. His fierceness and his dedication got in the way on the road to Bethlehem, and he had to work himself up to responding to God's leading. He goes down to Bethlehem, not full of hope and joy. He goes full of dread, slouching toward Bethlehem, the city of David and the city of Jesus.
God uses Samuel, grump that he is. This story reminds us that whether we're open vessels, listening for God, ready and eager to serve God, or whether we're stubborn and resentful and can't believe that God wants this kind of movement, there is a promise. This story reminds us of the promise of the biblical witness, a promise that is both comforting and terrifying. God is in our midst, lifting us, pulling us, comforting us, not always taking us where we want to go. God would not leave Israel alone. God would not leave Samuel alone. God will not leave us alone.
It is not always good news that God will not leave us alone. We often resist it, as Samuel did, as he slouched toward Bethlehem. The promise of this story -- indeed, the promise of the entire biblical witness -- is that God has claimed us and will not desert us. God will reshape us whether we're grumpy or open, whether we're willing to follow, or running the other way. God will make us God's people. Amen.
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1.�"O Little Town Of Bethlehem," Phillips Brooks, in The Presbyterian Hymnal (Louisville, Kentucky: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1990), p. 43.
2.�"The Second Coming," Selected Poems and Two Plays of William Butler Yeats, ed. M. L. Rosenthal (New York: Collier Books, 1962), p. 91.
God In A Box
1 Samuel 4:5-22
June 28, 1998
How many of you have seen the movie, Raiders Of The Lost Ark? Raise your hands. All right, just about everybody. The ark that is in the movie is the ark that is being described in today's scripture passage. It is a central part of chapter 4 of 1 Samuel. It's really a big box, about the size of our communion table, and it is very important in Israel's history. Exodus 25 tells us that Moses made the Ark of the Covenant as a container for the Ten Commandments. Numbers and Joshua tell us that the Israelite people were led through the wilderness into the promised land, with the Ark of the Covenant going before them. Over the years, it came to be seen as the place where God lived. Where is God? Where can you be the closest to God? In the Ark of the Covenant, God comes to be identified with the Ark.
In our scripture passage for today, we see the battle with the Philistines being lost, and so the Israelites pull out all the stops. They bring the Ark of the Covenant into battle with the Philistines. The Philistines are a difficult enemy for Israel. They've appeared previously in the Hebrew Scriptures. Samson fought against them in the book of Judges. They will continue to plague Israel throughout the history of the Hebrew Scriptures. Indeed, David rises to power as king of Israel because he is able to contain the Philistines. Not even the great David, however, can conquer the Philistines.
This struggle between Israel and the Philistines has had a profound effect on the Western world. One of the dictionary definitions of a Philistine is a person who is a slug, a person who has no cultural or aesthetic value. They would be called a "Philistine." But even more important for the west -- and indeed the entire world -- the Romans used a word in Latin to describe the area where the Philistines lived. That Latin word is Palestina, and that Latin word has come to be used to describe the entire area west of the Jordan River, "Palestine." So, even to this day, the ancient history and the ancient enmity between Israel and the Philistines continues. The Israelites continue to be in deadly conflict with their ancient enemy, the Philistines, now called the Palestinians. This conflict affects all of us. Modern Israel has indicated "never again" -- we will never yield our land again. We will never yield to the Philistines, to the Palestinians. And Israel has the bomb, and we know that they may take us to the brink and beyond before they yield their land again.
This is one of the legacies of today's scripture. Its roots are deep in ancient history and long-seated conflict and even today it bears bitter fruit. Our scripture for today is one of bitterness and despair and death. A few weeks ago, Caroline asked me what I was preaching on this Sunday so that she could prepare the packets for the children during worship. She read the passage, came back, and said, "Are you sure that you want to preach on this passage?" And, my answer was, "Yes, I do."
The prophecy given to Eli in chapter 2 of 1 Samuel by an unknown prophet, and the vision given to Eli through the young boy Samuel in chapter 3, these are now fulfilled in chapter 4, as was indicated in the scripture reading today. Both of Eli's sons are killed on the same day. The sons, Phineas and Hophni, who are supposed to carry on the priestly line of their father Eli, have instead led the people into idolatry. As we see in this fourth chapter, this idolatry leads to death for these sons, and for the people of Israel.
Now, that's bad enough, to lose both of your sons on the same day. But for Eli and for Israel, things are much worse. Not only are the sons killed, not only do the Philistines win the battle, but they capture God! They capture the Ark of the Covenant, where God lives. The mighty God that defeated Pharaoh, their God is now captured by the Philistines, and the Ark of the Covenant is taken into the Philistine camp. It is unimaginable for the Israelites. God is captured. It is terrible, debilitating, annihilating news. It is so disturbing that when Eli hears it, he falls over dead. It is so disheartening that when the pregnant wife of Phineas hears the news, she goes into labor, gives birth to a son, naming him Ichabod, meaning, "the glory has vanished," and then she dies. How would you like to be Ichabod and remember your birthday? To remember the death of your mother, the death of your father, your uncle, your grandfather, and worst of all, the capture of God! It is a story that ends in disaster for Israel. The priestly line is destroyed, the Ark where God lives is captured, and death and despair win the day.
This story speaks of a fundamental shift for Israel in its view of God. To us in the modern world, it may seem silly to talk about God living in a box. But we must remember how important the Ark of the Covenant has been for Israel. It contains the Law, which is at the center of their lives, and it has led them through the wilderness and into the promised land. God came to be identified with this box, and Israel came to identify itself with this box. When they start losing the battle to their ancient foe, the Philistines, they call God out to help them. They call God out to help them in the fight. Since this is God's land, and since this is God's home, surely God will fight for them against the Philistines. Surely God is on their side and will bring them victory.
There is great despair in Israel when the Ark is captured, for it means that God has failed. God has been captured. It is a terrible lesson for Israel. They will begin to learn, as we will learn, in the next chapters of 1 Samuel, that God is more than the Ark of the Covenant. God doesn't live in the box. God is not limited to the box where the Israelites thought God lived. God is not defeated by the capture of the Ark of the Covenant. Indeed, the Philistines, and the Israelites, come to learn that God still has power. Chapters 5 and 6 of 1 Samuel tell us intriguing stories about people who touch that Ark, about the plagues that came to the Philistine camp because the Ark of the Covenant is in their midst. The Philistines finally end up sending the Ark back to Israel. "You can have this thing," they say. "It is a curse on us!" They send great gifts to Israel to induce them to take back this box. God is moving in ways that Israel could not imagine, and though there is death and despair in Israel, God is moving. God has already called a new leader, Samuel, even before the Ark is captured. In chapter 7, we will see his leadership. Israel learns a difficult lesson about trying to box God in, about trying to confine God, about trying to put God in a place where we know God belongs.
This story speaks to God's people in every age about the peril of trying to keep God in a box, of believing that we've got God figured out and boxed in. We all tend to try to identify God with our beliefs, with our approaches to life. We want to think that God likes the way we live. We try to get God to fit into the boxes in our lives. We try to keep God boxed up and sometimes up on the shelf. When we really need God, when things get rough in our lives, we want to bring God off the shelf to help us, hoping that God will bless our visions and our dreams, just as the Israelites hoped in their battle with the Philistines. We feel better because we bring the God-box out, and we know that God will bring victory to us. Today's story in 1 Samuel points to the dangers of that process, of seeking to keep God in a box, whether the box we use is the Ark of the Covenant, whether it's skin color, whether it's money or economic status or gender or sexual orientation or nationality or any of those other boxes that we use to seek to confine God. This story reminds us in a stark way that God is deeper and wider and broader than our categories. God is not male. God is not white. All of those kinds of categories that we like to use for God are shattered by this story. We are reminded that God doesn't fit into those boxes.
When we seek to put God in a box, as Israel sought to do, when we bring God off the shelf to defend our categories, we often find that our boxes and our categories are shattered and scattered. We often face the death and despair and destruction and loss of meaning that Israel faced when the Ark of the Covenant was captured. Eli fell over and died not because his sons were killed but because God had been captured.
What Israel learned, and what we are asked to learn, is that God is not confined to our boxes and our categories. God is much more than we can ever imagine. A lesson like this is often bad news for us. It was for Israel when they learned that the Ark of the Covenant did not confine God. It is a difficult revelation when we learn that our categories do not fully contain and confine God. That's hard to hear. I still think of God as a man. Everybody knows that God is male -- Big Daddy in the sky. But I've had many revelations that remind me that God is not male. I also thought for a long time that God is white. I've had difficult revelations that remind me that God is not white. And I surely believed that God is middle class. Yet, I've had difficult revelations to remind me that God is not middle class. It is in these kinds of revelations that despair and the abyss of death often visit us. It is difficult, a humbling process. That's what Israel experienced in this story. It's often bad news when we find out that God is not in the box that we thought God was in.
Yet, this lesson is also good news. The good news that God will not be captured by our boxes. God will not be captured by the Philistines of this world. And, even more, there is the good news that God will not be confined by the Christians of this world. God doesn't ordain that white men should rule the world. God doesn't ordain that people who have money should rule the world. Those are our categories and our beliefs. To have these revelations is difficult, but it is also good news. It gives us the ability to go out into the world and struggle with the principalities and powers, following God who is already out there, not sitting in the boxes where we thought God was. It's good news that God is powerful beyond our categories, that God continues to move and to work, even when we are wallowing in despair and resentment.
There is some other good news in this revelation, the good news that God won't give up on us, even as we wallow in despair, even as we are mad at God for not staying in our boxes. God won't give up on us. The capture of the Ark of the Covenant does not end Israel's story. Indeed, that story is really just beginning. God already has plans for this loose confederacy of tribes, even as the Ark is captured. God has already called forth a new leader named Samuel. Samuel's waiting. So is David. So is Isaiah. So is Huldah. So is Mary, the mother of Jesus, and John the Baptist. And Jesus. And Martha and Peter and Priscilla and Paul and a whole host of witnesses throughout the generations. Witnesses who have responded to the God who has moved out of the boxes, into our hearts and into the world. God's work with the covenant people is just beginning in this story in 1 Samuel, a story that seems so full of despair and death. God is already moving into new places. The story of God and God's people will be reformed and reshaped again and again and again, and it continues this morning. It's being reshaped in our hearts today, in the hearing and the sharing of this story.
That reformation is bad news on one level, because we brought a lot of categories into worship this morning, categories that we'd like to use to confine God. But God is constantly moving beyond us, out of our boxes, deeper into our hearts and into the world. Yet, it is profoundly good news on another level. The God we see in this story, not captured by the Philistines, not confined by the Israelites or the Christians, is still moving in our lives. The God who emerges in this story is the rock of our salvation. This is an ancient and old and despairing story. The enmity between the Israelites and the Philistines continues at this very moment. And the God who moves in our midst and in their midst continues to shatter our categories and our boxes, calling us to find our true place and true identity. Who are we? We're God's people, able to struggle with the categories of the world, seeking to find God's truth and God's grace in our midst. We are asked to hear that God will shatter our categories if we begin to worship them and seek to confine God to them. But, we are also asked to hear the good news that God will not give up on us, that God will supply the grace and power for us to live outside the boxes and the categories. God will help us to live as God's people. We are the people of God. Let us follow God into all kinds of places that we thought we could never go, would never go. There we will find God already waiting for us. Amen.
Living Between God And Egypt
1 Samuel 8:1-22
July 12, 1998
This is an important chapter in the history of Israel. It notes the beginning of Israel as a nation, and it is filled with ambiguity and ambivalence. What's recorded here is not July fourth fireworks and not great thanksgiving for the memory of the beginning of the monarchy. What is recorded here is a sense of loss. Why do we have a king? Why are we living like this? This chapter seeks to answer those questions. It indicates both blessing and curse in this development.
Samuel, the great prophet and judge, has grown old, as we heard in this morning's scripture. In a touch of irony, Samuel's sons are like the sons of Samuel's predecessor, Eli. They are corrupt and self-seeking. The elders of the tribes of Israel rise up and ask for a king so that the corruption will end. The emphasis here is that justice is being perverted. We must note that the demand for a king arises not out of an external military threat but rather from an internal threat -- the loss of justice, the collapse of the system which brings justice. As we learned from chapter 7 last week, God delivered the tribes of Israel from the Philistines not to establish a powerful nation that ruled the world, but rather to establish justice. And now, that justice is being perverted.
Samuel reacts with anger and sadness at the request of these elders. He is angry that after all he has done for these tribes of Israel, he, and his line, are being rejected by the people. They don't want his sons. He is sad because he knows why they don't want his sons. His sons have failed. Does Samuel now understand what his mentor Eli felt when Eli's sons perverted justice, and Samuel replaced them? Does Samuel now understand how difficult and complex it is to try to pass from one generation to the next the values and beliefs of the past?
Yet, even as Samuel feels dejected and rejected, he remembers who he is. He is a servant of God, and he takes his concern to God, who is at the center of his life. Israel is not the center of Samuel's life, God is. Samuel prays to God about this request for a king from these elders, and he receives a stunning answer. "You shall answer their request in the affirmative. And, don't feel rejected, Samuel. It is not you who is being rejected. It is what you represent that is being rejected." What Samuel represents is the tradition of a people who have sought to center their lives on the God who brought them out of Egypt, who delivered them from the Philistines. What God tells Samuel is that Israel is rejecting its own center, its own identity. Israel is not rejecting Samuel. Israel is rejecting God.
God also tells Samuel something else. This desire for a king is nothing new for Israel. The rejection of God is nothing new. It continues a long history of the people of God seeking security at the price of freedom. "Ever since I brought them out of slavery in Egypt, they have wanted to go back there," God tells Samuel. Indeed, if we go back to Exodus to read the account of Israel's release from slavery, we will find that they are often dragged into freedom, kicking and screaming.
In chapter 14 of Exodus when Pharaoh's soldiers are pressing down on Israel, and Israel's back is to the sea, they are terrified. They cry out to Moses,
Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you have taken us away to die in the wilderness? What have you done to us, bringing us out of Egypt? Is this not the very thing we told you in Egypt, "Let us alone and let us serve the Egyptians"? For it would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the wilderness.
-- Exodus 14:11-12
And then God delivers them by parting the sea, and Pharaoh's soldiers drown. They begin their journey to freedom, but they are hungry. They don't have any food. They cry out again to Moses,
If only we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots and ate our fill of bread; for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger.
-- Exodus 16:3
In Exodus chapter 22, while Moses is up on Mount Sinai receiving the law that will become Israel's guide, the people of Israel are making a golden calf to worship. Gold and money always seem to be rivals for God in our hearts, don't they? Whether we're in the wilderness 3,000 years ago or whether we're sitting in this congregation this morning, this rivalry remains strong.
Throughout the book of Judges, and as we have seen in 1 Samuel, the Israelites are trying to balance the worship of their God with the worship of the Canaanite gods. They do this not because they are so bad and evil. They do this because life can be so fierce; because the powers and principalities are so intimidating; because the people's anxieties are so high. Let us remember that the people ask Samuel for a king not because of a military threat, but because justice has been perverted. They want justice to be established. They believe that if they can get a king, then justice will be re-established. It is a naive belief on one level, but it is rooted in desperation. We must note that these are not mean, stubborn people, openly defying God. They are regular folks just like us, encountering the chaos of life, repelled by the injustice and corruption all around them. They're trying to find a little bit of stability in their lives. We have to be careful not to dehumanize or stereotype these folks as weak or mean or lusting for power and profit, especially considering how often Christians have done such stereotyping of Judaism. Israel remembers chapter 8 of 1 Samuel because it speaks to each generation, and it speaks to us.
God wants Samuel to make it clear to God's people the cost of this kind of step. They will get what they want. They will get a king. They will get a Pharaoh, but they will have to return to the slavery of Egypt in order to do it. Samuel lays it out for the people. It is a gruesome narrative characterizing the centralization of power in a king. The people's property will be taken. Their sons will be forced to serve in the army. Their daughters will be at the disposal of the king. Samuel ends his warning with difficult words. "You will sell yourselves back into slavery." And yet, despite this stern warning, the people cry out, "Give us a king!"
We now have to make a decision on how to interpret this story. These people are either incredibly stupid, or there is something else going on here, something that the authors of 1 Samuel want each generation to remember and to ponder. What the authors of 1 Samuel want us to know is that in each generation, and in each of us, there is this same struggle between wanting to live in Egypt and wanting to have God at the center of our lives. The authors of 1 Samuel are reminding us that we all seek to live between God and Egypt, and it is a difficult journey.
Our lives should be a circle with God at the center. Most often, though, our lives are an ellipse that has two centers, Egypt and God. We often try to live between these two centers. We spend our lives going back and forth, wanting to feel secure and yet wanting freedom, often seeking to answer our anxieties by selling ourselves back into slavery. But, we also want to continue to experience what Israel experienced, the God who calls them and pulls them back into freedom.
We see many signs of this process in our time. After the Civil Rights Movement of the 1950s and 1960s, with its emphasis on freedom and equality, for a couple of decades now we've had a movement to go back to Egypt. "Let's go back to the traditional values. We don't need the NAACP anymore. We don't need all this talk about freedom. Let's go back to a time when life was simpler, when everybody knew where his or her place was. Women knew their places back then. Poor people knew their places back then. Comfortable people knew their places back then. It was a time when black folk and gay and lesbian folk weren't in your faces. Let's go back to Egypt."
It reminds me of a Garfield comic strip. Garfield is a caped crusader, and he's got this mask on, and he breaks into a pet store. All of the animals are in cages, of course, and Garfield begins to open the doors of the cages, saying, "You're free! You're free!" But all the animals just sit there in the cages. Garfield ponders what to do for a while, and then he starts slamming the doors of the cages, saying, "You're safe! You're safe!" He goes out the door saying, "We aren't much into freedom these days."
This certainly seems to be true on a societal level. Like the people of Israel, we see injustice and corruption all around us, and we often want to move back into Egypt in order to deal with it. It also describes the struggle in our individual lives, how we seek to live between God and Egypt. Each of us has our own pain, our own struggles, and our own anxieties that bring us to worship today. We're each trying to work out our own journeys as we seek to live between Egypt and God. We want to answer our anxieties with a place that feels safe, but often our answer is a quick trip to slavery, causing us to lose touch with our center, which is God. Yet, God continues to call us and pull us toward freedom, toward our center, our true home, which is God.
We must all work out our own compromises on this journey. As Paul says, we must all work out our salvation with fear and trembling, and the focus of our work is in trying to live between Egypt and God. Our children were both on the safety patrol when they were in elementary school, and they often had to lead the Pledge of Allegiance. As their time of leadership approached, they came to me to discuss it. They wanted to discuss it because they had noticed at sporting events that I had not put my hand over my heart when the Pledge of Allegiance was said. After those sporting events, they asked me, "Daddy, why don't you put your hand over your heart like everyone else?" I replied that I didn't mind pledging allegiance to the nation but that my heart belonged to God. I also told them that I wanted them to remember that. When they got to be officers on the safety patrol, the problem emerged. They were supposed to lead the school in the pledge, and they were supposed to put their hands over their hearts. They now asked me, "What should we do?" I told them my preference. I preferred that they not put their hands over their hearts. Yet, I also told them that this would have to be their decision, which they would have to work out for themselves. This is what they came up with. They took their hands and put them almost on their hearts, not quite touching themselves. They managed to appear to put their hands on their hearts, all the while preserving their own sense of not quite giving total allegiance to the nation.
For me, it is a metaphor of how we all try to live between Egypt and God. We don't want to lose either center, so we try to keep them both. That's what my children tried to do on the safety patrol. That's what I try to do every day. That's what most of us try to do. That's what Israel tried to do. That's what we all find ourselves trying to do, living between Egypt and God.
Our passage today reminds us of this dilemma as we seek to live with these two centers of our lives. Israel remembers this passage not because it wants us to know how stupid its ancestors are, but rather because it wants us to know how human they are, how similar to us they are. It is a dilemma, this life with two centers. There are many benefits to living in Egypt. Indeed, Israel prospers under the monarchy. Saul drives back the Philistines and begins to set the borders. David, the second king, unites the nation and establishes Jerusalem as its center and its capital. Solomon, the son of David, has great economic development and builds the great temple that becomes the center of Judaism.
This passage also reminds us, however, that after those three kings, the nation falls apart and splits. It reminds Israel and us of the cost of living in Egypt. Israel moves away from its center, who is God, and moves back into slavery. This occurs first in its own midst under its own kings, who do just what Samuel said they would. Then Israel moves into exile and slavery in Babylon.
This passage gives us a stern warning about seeking to live between God and Egypt. Yet, for all its warning, this passage continues to remind us that God is in the midst of these people. It is God who says "Yes" to the monarchy. This passage, and the entire biblical story, points us to a fundamental fact of our lives, whether we live in Israel many thousands of years ago or whether we're here this morning. Though we try to live in Egypt, God will not let us alone. Though we try to push God from the center of our lives, God remains at the center. God will not leave us alone. God will not give up on us. We do sell ourselves into slavery in order to feel safe and secure, but God continues to call us back into freedom. We put our toes into the waters of freedom. We put our toes into the waters of freedom for just a little while, then we run back to the safety of Egypt. But God continues to kindle our thirst, and we return to the waters of life, this time to put a knee in; then, sooner or later, to be immersed in the waters of life and freedom.
It will be a rugged journey for us, as we all know. The internal voices and pressures inside each of us and the voices of the principalities and the powers outside ourselves are powerful and scary. They ask us to accept the simplistic answers, answers in which a certain group of people make all the decisions, where the power is not distributed, where justice is interpreted to mean giving the powerful what they want. In a time like this, when people want simple answers, we're asked to remember that life is complex. In a time when folks want to set up enemies so that they can be blamed, we're asked to remember that we are those who are called to love people that we deem as enemies. In a time when we're told that society is collapsing because black folk have left their place, because women have left home, and because gay and lesbian persons have been affirmed just a little bit, we are called to remember that it is the rapacious appetite of a consumer society that sees all of life as a commodity, it is this appetite that is causing society to collapse. It is a time when we hear those voices in ourselves that tell us that we cannot trust God, that we must come on over to the idols of the world and find our way back to Egypt, then we must remember God's movement in our lives and listen for God's voice in our midst. It is the voice telling us that the only way we can find real safety and real security, the only way we can find life, is by touching the one who is at the center of our lives, the God we know in Jesus Christ.
These authors of 1 Samuel know what they are doing in this story when they include these ambivalent words about kingship in the sacred text of scripture. This story is as contemporary as this morning's newspaper, or in this electronic age, as today's e-mail. Israel sought to live between God and Egypt, and so do we. That's a curse for us, but it is also a blessing. God is part of our struggle and will not give up on us. The biblical promise is that God is in the midst of our struggle; that God will not give up on us. God continues to call us and pull us, as God pulled Israel, as God pulled the followers of Jesus. God continues to pull us, to call us into freedom, into life, into the center of our lives, who is the true God. Amen.
Slouching Toward Bethlehem
1 Samuel 16:1-13
August 30, 1998
In the famous Christmas carol by Phillips Brooks, we see a little town awaiting the birth of a Savior. "O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie. Above thy deep and dreamless sleep, the silent stars go by."1 But in today's passage in 1 Samuel, we see a grim picture of Bethlehem. As Bethlehem waits in this story, there is grief and confusion and feelings of loss all around. To borrow a line from the Irish poet William Butler Yeats, Samuel "slouches toward Bethlehem."2
Samuel is grieving. He and his line of leadership have been rejected by the people of Israel, who want a king. And Saul, the king whom Samuel selected under God's direction, has now been rejected by God. Israel is now in limbo. It has a king who still reigns but who has been rejected by God. Samuel goes back to Ramah, grieving over Saul and over Israel. Indeed, he sees no future for Israel. Samuel grieves over the kingship, which he did not want in the first place, over the king who did not want to become king and who has now been rejected as king by God. Samuel grieves over the shortsightedness of the people of Israel who rejected God and wanted a king. And now, God has rejected that very king, Saul. What is going on? What will happen? Is all lost?
In the midst of this grief and despair comes the power of God. God tells Samuel, "Get up. There's work to be done. I've already got a new king picked out." Samuel is less than enthusiastic. He has been through this with God before. In the present circumstances, Samuel's grief and despair make him see disaster everywhere. There is no good news. Not even God can turn this situation around. When God tells Samuel to get up and get going, Samuel digs in his heels. "I won't go! How can I go to Bethlehem and anoint a new king? If Saul, the current king -- the king you chose, the king you rejected -- hears about it, he will kill me."
It is an interesting shift in Samuel. Up until now in the book of 1 Samuel, he has been a fierce warrior-prophet who has hounded and tormented Saul as king. He has never been afraid of Saul. But now, when God orders him to Bethlehem, he trembles in fear. His knees are knocking. "I can't go down there!" Samuel sees no hope. In his grief and sadness, his fear has gotten the best of him. He resists God's invitation to go to Bethlehem. God offers him a way out. "You're a circuit-riding preacher, aren't you? Just go down to Bethlehem and have a revival. Pitch your tent, invite everybody in, and give Jesse a special invitation -- Jesse and his sons." Samuel does what God commands him to do. He reluctantly slouches toward Bethlehem. He doesn't go to Bethlehem full of joy and anticipation. Finally, God is moving. There's going to be renewal in Israel, a great revival that begins in Bethlehem! No, Samuel doesn't go to Bethlehem in this frame of mind. He slouches to Bethlehem, full of fear and dread of what will happen.
The authors of this story in 1 Samuel well understand what it means to be a human being, and they emphasize it in this passage. The authors want us to note here that even the great Samuel had struggles. We must recall the esteem in which Samuel is held. The biblical books that contain the stories of the great king, David, are not called 1 and 2 David -- they are called 1 and 2 Samuel in the Hebrew Scriptures. Samuel commands great respect in the memory of Israel, but here the authors emphasize the struggles in his heart. Here, on the way to Bethlehem, Samuel is in turmoil, and he slouches toward Bethlehem. We see a humorous story of Samuel's entry into the little town of Bethlehem. He is fearful, looking over his shoulder for the spies of Saul who may hear what he is going to Bethlehem to do. In the town of Bethlehem itself, the elders hear that the powerful and dangerous Samuel is approaching their town. They do not know that Samuel's knees are knocking. They only know the fierce warrior-prophet who has served God so well and who has so recently hacked King Agag to death in chapter 15. This Samuel is coming to Bethlehem. They, too, come out in fear to meet Samuel. "Do you come in peace?" They ask it with hope and prayer. We have, then, a comic scene of a proud warrior slouching toward Bethlehem, trembling in fear, knees knocking. The elders come out to greet him. They are trembling, and their knees are knocking, bumbling, filled with fear, taking one step forward and two steps backward.
And there are even more surprises for Samuel when he arrives. Not only is God sending him to this hick town, to this little place in Judah, but things don't go well, either. The sons of Jesse are paraded before Samuel, and as each one passes before him, he expects to feel God's Spirit. "This is the one. Look how tall he is!" Now, I understand why that one was rejected. I don't know why the others were rejected, but it makes sense to a short guy like me why the tall Eliab was rejected. No, he's not the one. Then Abinadab -- no, he's not the one. Then Shammah -- no, he's not the one. Then four more sons are brought before Samuel and inspected and rejected. None of them is the one. Nothing happens. All of the sons of Jesse are paraded before Samuel, and nothing happens. There is no voice from God telling Samuel that this is the one. Samuel is wondering, "What is happening? Does God know what he is doing? Have I risked my life coming down to this little town for nothing?"
In desperation Samuel asks Jesse, "Are there any sons left?" "Well, yes, there's a little boy out there, tending the sheep, but he doesn't belong in this lottery for the kingship. He's too young. He's just a boy." Samuel orders that the young boy be brought before him, and he is astonished to feel God's Spirit when he sees this shepherd boy. "This is the one -- get up and anoint him!" "This is the one? God, you have got to be kidding; a little shepherd boy -- king of Israel?" Not even the clever and battle-hardened Samuel is ready for this. Samuel undoubtedly believes that God has lost his mind, but he follows God's Spirit. He anoints a young boy as king of Israel, a boy named David.
The authors of 1 Samuel want us to remember that it is not Samuel who saves Israel. It is not Moses who saves Israel. It is not Deborah who saves Israel. It is not even David who saves Israel. It is God, who is moving in these kinds of vessels, who saves Israel. God's choice for the next king of Israel emphasizes Israel's dependency upon God. A mere child is chosen to be king, a child who will have to be nurtured and protected and taught. No strong warrior like Eliab, no powerful son like Abinadab, but rather a little shepherd boy named David, who will have to be protected and taught by God and, yes, by Samuel. It is the clearest sign yet that the destiny of Israel is not in Samuel's hands, not in Saul's hands, not in David's hands. Israel's destiny is in God's hands.
Samuel slouches toward Bethlehem and finds astonishing news. I understand his fear and reluctance well. As I was reading this story in chapter 16 of 1 Samuel, I was reminded of my first pastorate with my wife in a small church. A couple of weeks after we came to be pastors there, we had our first session meeting. Toward the end of the meeting, the elders told us that there was something that we needed to know. They indicated that they were fairly certain that the church treasurer had been embezzling money from the church. They had discovered it several months earlier but were waiting on us to arrive in order to solve it.
We made plans to go to the treasurer's home to discuss it. The treasurer was an elder who had rotated off the Session, and his wife was actively involved in the church. I saw disaster looming before me. The church had only twelve members anyway, and if we lost two of them, we weren't going to be in good shape. I dreaded going out to see him. I put off calling him for a couple of days, and finally, I made the call, not telling him the purpose of the visit. I was mad at the elders for not taking care of it before we arrived. Here I was an inexperienced minister, and I was being thrown into the fire that could devour this little church, and perhaps more to the point of my fear, could devour me. I was filled with fear and dread and anger. I was physically ill the night before we went to visit him.
When we got to his house, we had a time of chatting and getting acquainted. As we talked, I learned that he was an avid hunter. And, as we talked, I looked around the room, and I noticed shotguns and crossbows and rifles hanging on the walls. I can tell from your laughter that you have already discerned what I was imagining. I said, "O God, save me!" My knees were knocking, my heart was pounding, and my voice was trembling. Finally, I brought up the purpose of our visit and the subject of the money. And God did save us. God did redeem the moment. The treasurer admitted his guilt, seeing this as an opportunity to stop the madness and lift up his errors. He admitted his guilt, and he made restitution to the church, and he stayed in the church.
I was stunned that evening and stunned throughout the process. God had moved through my wife and me. We were not eager vessels for God's action. We were not enthusiastic, ready to go out and convict the sinner, ready to witness for Jesus. We were reluctant, grumpy, and scared, slouching toward the treasurer's house. Yet, God acted through us. God redeemed the moment. Not because of us -- we obviously were not ready or eager vessels -- but rather through us.
I think this is the point of the story of chapter 16 of 1 Samuel, the story of the transition from Samuel to Saul to David. This whole saga is grounded in the power and initiative and the surprises of God. It affirms, it asserts -- indeed, it demands -- that we hear that God is working in our lives. Not always when we're fierce and fight for justice, not always when we're ready to go out and save the world, but in the midst of our struggles. God is working in us. Our task, then, is not to make ourselves perfect. Samuel was far from perfect. He was discouraged and grieving. He did not want to go to Bethlehem. He tried to get out of going, but he finally went.
As the story of Samuel demonstrates, we are often weak vessels for God. Paradoxically, it is our strength that sometimes causes the problem. It's often our strength that makes us weak. It's the idea that we know the answer, that we always know what should be done, as Samuel thought he knew. His fierceness and his dedication got in the way on the road to Bethlehem, and he had to work himself up to responding to God's leading. He goes down to Bethlehem, not full of hope and joy. He goes full of dread, slouching toward Bethlehem, the city of David and the city of Jesus.
God uses Samuel, grump that he is. This story reminds us that whether we're open vessels, listening for God, ready and eager to serve God, or whether we're stubborn and resentful and can't believe that God wants this kind of movement, there is a promise. This story reminds us of the promise of the biblical witness, a promise that is both comforting and terrifying. God is in our midst, lifting us, pulling us, comforting us, not always taking us where we want to go. God would not leave Israel alone. God would not leave Samuel alone. God will not leave us alone.
It is not always good news that God will not leave us alone. We often resist it, as Samuel did, as he slouched toward Bethlehem. The promise of this story -- indeed, the promise of the entire biblical witness -- is that God has claimed us and will not desert us. God will reshape us whether we're grumpy or open, whether we're willing to follow, or running the other way. God will make us God's people. Amen.
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1.�"O Little Town Of Bethlehem," Phillips Brooks, in The Presbyterian Hymnal (Louisville, Kentucky: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1990), p. 43.
2.�"The Second Coming," Selected Poems and Two Plays of William Butler Yeats, ed. M. L. Rosenthal (New York: Collier Books, 1962), p. 91.
