Parting Words

August 18, 2024 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Parting Words” 1 Kings 2:1-12

When someone leaves a significant legacy or accomplishes great things, we say that they leave some big shoes to fill. It can be daunting for those who follow them to match those impressive achievements.

When the legendary founder and director of Apple, Steve Jobs, retired for health reasons, investors doubted that the tech giant could continue its outstanding growth and innovation. But longtime chief operating officer Tim Cook was up to the challenge. In the five years since Cook stepped into leadership, Apple’s total return has been more than 360%. That means $100 invested in 2019 would be worth $460.46 today. At the same time, Apple has continued to innovate, introducing Airpods, Apple watch, and the dustbin MAC Pro—a powerful computer in a tiny cylindrical enclosure

Unfortunately, there are plenty of stories of successors who fail to live up to the standard set by those they replace. Chief Executive Officer Jeffrey Immelt spent sixteen years reimagining GE. He sold off slow-growth, low-tech, non-industrial components of the conglomerate and doubled GE’s investment in research and development. GE became the poster child for how modern companies could take an entrepreneurial approach to management and achieve long-term growth. When Jeffrey Immelt stepped down, longtime GE executive John Flannery stepped up to lead. Flannery had his own ideas for change, but those plans quickly went south. Disappointing financial results led to Flannery’s departure after only 14 months.

Following in the footsteps of a legend is no cake walk. In the business world, successors to longstanding CEOs may share a similar background and work history to the giants that they replace; however, they tend to turn in worse financial performances. That leads to shorter tenures—5.3 years for a successor versus 13.7 years for their predecessor. And those departures often are not pretty. About 35% of successors are forced out by their Boards of Directors in “involuntary departures,” without any plan for who will succeed them.

In our final lesson on David, the long-serving monarch was passing the torch to his son Solomon. Those were some big shoes to fill. Anointed to one day rule over Israel while just a shepherd boy with a heart for God, David had gone on to vanquish the giant Goliath and become an ingenious military leader who did what King Saul could not: defeat the Philistines. David had united Israel’s twelve tribes to forge a nation of growing wealth and status in the Ancient Near East. From Jerusalem, David had woven a network of impressive alliances and trading connections.

David’s son Solomon did not have a particularly strong claim to the throne. He was the eldest son of David’s ninth wife Bathsheba with any number of older brothers. This was at a time when the oldest male child was typically the heir apparent. That honor fell to David’s son Adonijah, who had already received the blessing of some powerful supporters, like the influential priest Abiathar and Joab, commander of David’s army. Solomon wasn’t like his powerful father. Solomon never tended a flock, never defeated a giant, never even went into battle. He was bookish, a creature of the royal court. When in 1 Chronicles 28, David gathered the leaders of Israel and introduced Solomon as his successor, David said that God almighty had chosen the boy to sit on the throne. But there must have been a few who heard the news and wondered if when God called Solomon, God had gotten a wrong number.

Solomon is not alone in facing a daunting challenge. We have all had experiences when we have needed to fill some big shoes. We may have even had some big questions about our worthiness or competence to fulfill that new role.

There is nothing like parenting to make us feel like we need to fill some big shoes, especially if we had exceptional parents ourselves. Remember when you first held your child? Remember the utter vulnerability of your little one and the immensity of your love for that little nugget? Pondering the long years of commitment and responsibility to come were enough to make ours head spin. Somehow, as parents, we put one foot in front of the other, even if we aren’t sure where we are going or how we will get there.

Perhaps we have been like Tim Cook of Apple or John Flannery of GE. We’ve been tapped to step into the big shoes of a workplace hero. The boss retires and we are the heir apparent. Or Mom and Pop want to pass the family business on to us. Or we put together our best resume, endure some tough rounds of interviews, and land the corporate job of our dreams. Suddenly it is the first day of work and we find ourselves wondering, “What have I gotten myself into?”

It happens with the turn of generations, too. Our parents pass on, as do the aunts and uncles. One day, we realize we are it. We are the matriarch or the patriarch. Younger family members begin calling us for advice. They name their kids after us. They ask us to take on family responsibilities, like hosting the holiday dinner or presiding at their non-church weddings.

We know how it can be to be to feel overwhelmed and ill-equipped. Don’t we?

As Solomon faced the daunting task of following in his father’s footsteps, David gave some parting words of advice. The king began with an exhortation to be strong and courageous. Who wouldn’t want to hear that? David then emphasizes the importance of keeping God at the center of life by following God’s instructions and worshipping and loving the Lord alone. That’s sound advice in any circumstance. Don’t forget those who are loyal, like Barzillai, reward them. Of course!

What David said next sounds less appealing. It’s advice that emerged from a cultural world of blood vengeance that is very different from our own, unless we are a mafia boss. Take care of Joab and Shimei. David’s words sound bloodthirsty, but they are Ancient Near East statecraft at its finest. Joab had supported Abiathar’s failed bid for the kingship. Joab had also twice murdered other generals to consolidate his power at times when David was vulnerable and could not retaliate. Shimei had publicly disrespected and cursed David. Shimei could stir sedition in the transition of power. Now, as the torch was being passed, Solomon would need to act fast, ending their lives and the threats that they posed to his reign.

Solomon acted on the advice of his father. He loved the Lord and built the Temple that would keep God at the heart of Israel. In his own way, Solomon was strong and courageous, too. Joab was executed while clinging to the horns of the altar in the Lord’s tabernacle. And Shimei was kept on a short leash in Jerusalem until he broke his house arrest and was executed. The family of Barzillai was given land in Jerusalem.

Solomon filled David’s big shoes. Like his father, he reigned over Israel for forty years. Not only did he build the Temple, but he also employed architects and builders to construct the royal palace, siege walls for the city of Jerusalem, and a network of fortified cities throughout the land. He defeated the Syrians giving Israel control over a vast network of overland trading routes. He formed an alliance with the Phoenicians that expanded Israel’s economic power. Solomon’s wisdom and judgment became as legendary as his father’s charismatic leadership and military accomplishments. He was legendary. He left big shoes to fill.

What about us? What about those of us who ponder what it means to step up and out as parents, or professionals, or family leaders and fill some big shoes. I’d like to spin some midrash and put some words in David’s mouth, sharing some advice that speaks to us here and now. Are we ready?

David speaks . . .

“Be strong and take courage. I’m not talking about muscles or might. I’m talking about growing fully and truly into the person God created you to be. You are unique. You have God-given gifts and abilities. Use them in service to God and others.

Keep the Lord at the center of your life. Build your family around God. Begin your workday with an appeal to the almighty. Remember that when the going gets tough, you are never in it alone. The Lord is with you and is always strong to save.

Take care of business. Don’t be like me. Don’t let old wounds, past hurts, and bad behaviors fester for the next generation to resolve. Remember the words of the One Minute Manager—it won’t be written for another 3,000 or so years, but stay with me. Pay attention every day and take one minute to offer correction to others. Take one minute to offer praise.

Finally, stop measuring yourself against what has gone before. Stop measuring yourself against me. There are always big shoes to fill. Yet you are not the same as the one who preceded you, any more than Solomon was the same as me (David). Yet you can make your mark in your own way. You can establish your own legacy.”

Well, my friends, the world of opportunities beckons. It’s time to step up and step out. Let’s fill those big shoes.

Resources:

J. Robinson. The Cambridge Bible Commentary: 1 Kings. London: Cambridge Press, 1972.

C.F. Keil and F. Delitzsch. 1 and 2 Kings. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 1989.

Per-Ola Karlsson, Martha Turner, and Peter Gassmann. “Succeeding the long-serving legend in the corner office” in Leadership, Summer 2019, Issue 95. Accessed online at https://www.strategy-business.com/article/Succeeding-the-long-serving-legend-in-the-corner-office

Shu-Tsen Ko. “Predecessors set the bar for both succeeding leaders and their employees” in Lead Read Today, November 13, 2018, Fisher College of Business, Ohio State University. https://fisher.osu.edu/blogs/leadreadtoday/blog/predecessors-set-the-bar-for-both-succeeding-leaders-and-their-employees

Rebecca Zucker. “How to Succeed When You Have Big Shoes to Fill” in Harvard Business Review, Feb. 17, 2020. Accessed online at How to Succeed When You Have Big Shoes to Fill (hbr.org)

1 Kings 2:1-12

2When David’s time to die drew near, he charged his son Solomon, saying: ²“I am about to go the way of all the earth. Be strong, be courageous, ³and keep the charge of the Lord your God, walking in his ways and keeping his statutes, his commandments, his ordinances, and his testimonies, as it is written in the law of Moses, so that you may prosper in all that you do and wherever you turn. ⁴Then the Lord will establish his word that he spoke concerning me: ‘If your heirs take heed to their way, to walk before me in faithfulness with all their heart and with all their soul, there shall not fail you a successor on the throne of Israel.’ ⁵“Moreover you know also what Joab son of Zeruiah did to me, how he dealt with the two commanders of the armies of Israel, Abner son of Ner, and Amasa son of Jether, whom he murdered, retaliating in time of peace for blood that had been shed in war, and putting the blood of war on the belt around his waist, and on the sandals on his feet. ⁶Act therefore according to your wisdom, but do not let his gray head go down to Sheol in peace. ⁷Deal loyally, however, with the sons of Barzillai the Gileadite, and let them be among those who eat at your table; for with such loyalty they met me when I fled from your brother Absalom. ⁸There is also with you Shimei son of Gera, the Benjaminite from Bahurim, who cursed me with a terrible curse on the day when I went to Mahanaim; but when he came down to meet me at the Jordan, I swore to him by the Lord, ‘I will not put you to death with the sword.’ ⁹Therefore do not hold him guiltless, for you are a wise man; you will know what you ought to do to him, and you must bring his gray head down with blood to Sheol.” ¹⁰Then David slept with his ancestors, and was buried in the city of David. ¹¹The time that David reigned over Israel was forty years; he reigned seven years in Hebron, and thirty-three years in Jerusalem.¹²So Solomon sat on the throne of his father David; and his kingdom was firmly established.

A House Divided

August 11, 2024 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “A House Divided” 2 Sam. 18:5-9, 15, 31-33

Jill hasn’t seen her Mom in a decade. Both of Jill’s parents have struggled with alcoholism. Addiction cast a long, painful shadow over her childhood. When Jill started her own family, she hoped that things might change. She scheduled times for her mother to visit with the kids, but there were so many no-shows or last-minute cancellations. The last straw came when Jill’s Mom offered to watch the kids for the evening so that Jill and her husband could see a concert. When they arrived home near midnight, they found Mom passed out on the couch. The kids had never gotten dinner, and the baby was crying in a dirty diaper.

Carl is estranged from his father. Dad left the family when Carl was only eight years old. There were years of shared custody with Carl bouncing back and forth between his parents. But Carl’s father has a new family with a younger wife and small children. Carl’s dad was always too busy to come to Carl’s baseball games and didn’t show up for graduation. When Carl sees his father doting on those younger children, it hurts Carl’s heart. He doesn’t understand why his Dad doesn’t love him or make time for him.

Jenny and her brother Sam stopped speaking after their parents died. Sam always felt that Jenny was their favorite. They always sang Jenny’s praises, she was included in special vacations, and she received generous gifts, including a down payment for her home. When it was time to settle their parent’s estate, Sam learned that there was nothing left. Jenny had power of attorney and had spent his inheritance on a pricey renovation of her own home.

If we come from a family with painful, broken relationships, we are not alone. Seventy to eighty percent of Americans consider their families to be dysfunctional. Issues of violence, abuse, neglect, and addiction create a toxic, traumatic environment for children. Unhealthy boundaries, the inability to give love, and poor communication also lead to breakdowns in families and leave a lasting legacy of guilt and shame. One in four people experience estrangement from a family member. One in ten people say that they have a cut off, a total disconnection, in a relationship with a parent or a child. Our homes have been divided in painful ways, and we can feel powerless to change.

Our reading from Second Samuel is a final sad chapter in a lengthy tale of dysfunction in the family of King David. Last week, we learned that David’s misconduct was to have lasting consequences for his house. This week, it proves to be true. It started with David’s treatment of the women in his life. In his bid to forge alliances and secure his dynasty, David acquired eight wives and at least eleven concubines. In a patriarchal world, where women had no standing apart from their menfolk, we can imagine the bitter rivalry and hurt feelings in David’s house as younger, more nubile women were constantly added to David’s harem. Those bitter feelings passed to children, who longed for the love of an absent and unavailable father.

The trouble with David’s second son Absalom was nine years in the making. When older half-brother and heir-apparent Amnon raped Absalom’s sister Tamar, Absalom hoped that his father David would remedy the injustice. But David didn’t. Amnon was his favorite son, so the king was unwilling to enforce any discipline. After two years of waiting for his father to act, Absalom took justice into his own hands. He struck down Amnon and fled to the neighboring Kingdom of Geshur. David ignored him. After three years, David’s general Joab engineered a reconciliation between father and son. Absalom moved home, but his father continued to ignore him. After four more years of this, Absalom left Jerusalem for Hebron. There he launched a conspiracy to usurp his father.

It almost worked. David with his loyalists fled Jerusalem just ahead of Absalom’s advancing forces. The rebellious son moved into the royal palace and raped his father’s concubines. The victory was short-lived. Absalom’s upstart army was no match for David’s seasoned warriors. In the bloodbath that unfolded in the forest of Ephraim, Absalom’s escape was foiled when his abundant tresses caught in the downward reaching branches of an oak tree. It didn’t take long for Joab and his armor bearers to dispatch the rebel, repeatedly running him through with their spears.

The sad, sad tale ends with the sound of a father’s remorse. David cries, “My son, Absalom! My son, my son, Absalom! If only I had died instead of you!” We can well imagine the self-recrimination behind David’s lamentation. If only he had punished Amnon when he violated Tamar. If only he had protected and comforted his daughter. If only he had been truly reconciled with Absalom. If only he had not allowed Absalom to languish in the vacuum left by too little love, too little kindness, too little attention.

Our family dysfunction seems pretty tame when compared to David’s household. In fact, this is such an unpleasant chapter in David’s story that we might like to skip right over it, but that wouldn’t provide us with the real picture of David, who may have had a heart for God but also made a mess of his own family. In tackling this terrible tale head-on, we are granted the opportunity to ponder our own families. I’d like to suggest a few lessons that we can glean from today’s reading—with hope that they might be helpful as we seek wholeness in the midst of dysfunction

A first lesson is that we all need helpful people and caring places where we can find support and healing. Poor Absalom, raised in a household that pitted wife against wife and child against child! Poor Absalom, waiting for justice for his sexually abused sister! Poor Absalom, longing year after year for the love of his father. Absalom needed caring people with whom he could work through his trauma. Absalom needed a safe and caring place where he could find the love that his father would never provide. Sometimes we need mentors or counselors, pastors or churches, that can help us to heal. We who have known our own broken families, we who have done our own healing work, we can offer the caring presence and unconditional love that help to mend hurting hearts.

We may also find healing when we decide to make different choices for our lives and families. Absalom repeated his father’s sins. He had Amnon killed, much as David had Uriah killed. Absalom raped his father’s concubines, just as David raped Bathsheba. The apple didn’t fall far from that tree. Yet we can choose to not repeat the sins of others. We have the power to remember, reflect, and opt to behave in very different ways. Those of us, who never knew a parent’s approval, can make sure our kids know that they are loved unconditionally. Those who grew up in households with poor communication and deep, dark secrets can opt to live in the light and speak the truth. We who are plagued by shame and guilt can grab ahold of God’s mercy and trust that the grace of our Lord Jesus is always sufficient for us.

We can also rethink family. In some cases where there is intractable abuse or unresolved addiction, in some cases where there is untimely death or even suicide, we don’t find a satisfactory resolution for the pain and brokenness of our families. Yet it may still be possible to find some measure of peace and healing through the families that we make. When Jesus’s family thought he was crazy and wanted to end his ministry by taking him back home to Nazareth, Jesus found in his friends and disciples the kinship and love that he needed. Jesus pointed to his companions and said, “Here are my mother, and brothers, and sisters.” May we find and be for one another the families of necessity that help us to heal, grow, and endure.

Finally, we can remember that we are not alone in the struggle. God is with us. God knows how it feels to be despised and rejected. God knows how it feels when addiction or greed or violence becomes the self-destructive idol of our beloved one. God knows what it is like to lose a grown son. God weeps with David over the loss of Absalom. God weeps with Jill over the chronic problem of her Mom’s alcoholism. God weeps with Carl over his absentee Dad. God weeps with Sam over the betrayal of his sister Jenny. God weeps with us in the chaos of trauma and dysfunction. We can trust that we have a holy helper. Thanks be to God.

Seventy to eighty percent of Americans may consider their families to be dysfunctional, but there is hope for us yet. May we find the helping people and places that we need. May we make some different choices for our lives. May we forge from those around us the family of our necessity. May we trust that God holds the hope and healing for a better tomorrow for our families.

Resources

Ted A. Smith. “Commentary on 2 Sam18:5-9, 15, 31-33” in Preaching This Week, August 9, 2009. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-33 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Robert Hoch. “Commentary on 2 Sam18:5-9, 15, 31-33” in Preaching This Week, August 12, 2012. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-33 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Ralph W. Klein. “Commentary on 2 Sam18:5-9, 15, 31-33” in Preaching This Week, August 9, 2015. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-33 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Timothy Adkins-Jones. “Commentary on 2 Sam18:5-9, 15, 31-33” in Preaching This Week, August 8, 2021. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-33 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Soulaima Gourani. “What Does Having A ‘Real’ Family Mean?” in Forbes Magazine, Nov. 24, 2019. Accessed online at What Does Having A “Real” Family Mean? (forbes.com)

Kui Mwai. “Why So Many People (Myself Included) Are Experiencing Family Estrangement” in Vogue: Culture, May 2, 2024. Accessed online at Why So Many People (Myself Included) Are Experiencing Family Estrangement | Vogue

The Reckoning

August 4, 2024 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Reckoning” 2 Sam. 11:26-12:13a

We are constantly judging others. It is part of how we are hardwired as human beings, a legacy of the days when determining the safety or danger of any given situation could mean the difference between life and death. Researchers at Dartmouth and New York Universities determined that the human brain begins to label people as trustworthy or untrustworthy in a split second, even before we have time to consciously analyze what we see.

Our natural tendency to judge others is further shaped by our context. Children raised in families with critical parents learn to judge, sorting people into a ranked hierarchy from excellent to good to adequate to “you should be embarrassed by that effort.” Similarly, students, who cut their teeth in hyper-competitive schools and universities, can be ruthless in assigning value to the efforts of their classmates. We want that gold star for ourselves.

Psychologists suggest that our innate need to judge finds further reinforcement from the mental payoff that we reap. Finding others inadequate boosts our own sense of self-esteem and competency. We think, “At least I’m better than that!” Carl Jung, whose work was so formative for analytical psychology, formulated that there is a deeper and darker motivation behind our need to judge. Jung argued that we refuse to see what we do not like about ourselves, but at a deeper level, we still need to deal with those qualities and actions. So, we project those flaws onto others. We dislike and even hate in others that part of ourselves that we have denied and disowned.

In our reading from 2 Samuel, King David rushed to judgment when the Prophet Nathan told him a story of injustice. Last week, we heard the story of David’s abuse of power. While the armies of Israel waged war against the Ammonites, David stayed home and got up to no good. First, he violated and impregnated Bathsheba. Then, he had her husband Uriah murdered to cover up the sin. As today’s reading began, David thought all the mischief had been managed. He had even appeared generous and magnanimous by taking the widowed Bathsheba into the royal household and making her a wife.

There was only one problem—and it was a big one. God was a witness. God knew that the king had coveted his neighbor’s wife, committed adultery, borne false witness, and staged a murder. God didn’t like what God had seen, so a holy messenger, the Prophet Nathan, was called to confront David with his sin.

It was deftly done. David as king spent part of his day hearing the disputes of his people and rendering judgments. Nathan stood in line in the judgment hall and waited. When his turn came, he told a sad story of the abuse of power. We heard it—the rich man stole and killed the beloved pet of his impoverished neighbor without a second thought to the lamb’s suffering or the neighbor’s grief. David, who had not acknowledged the abuse and injustice of his own actions, rushed to judgment as he heard those actions attributed to another. “This man deserves to die!” the king proclaimed, unwittingly passing judgment on himself.

It’s a story that makes us want to pass our own judgments. How disappointed we are in David, who has proven that he is just as capable of misusing his authority as the last king, Saul. It’s a story that uncomfortably reveals that David is both sinner and saint. He is a rapist, murderer, liar, and predator. Yet, David is also Israel’s champion, a war hero, a poet, the anointed one, and a man with a heart for God. Humanity is complex, with the potential for so much good—and so much evil. It’s a fact that undergirds the salvation story of scripture. It stretches from God’s warning to Cain in the Garden of Eden, saying, “Sin is at your door. Its desire is to master you, but you must rule over it” (Gen. 4:7). It stretches to the cross, where Jesus took on the sin of the world so that we could be reconciled to God and one another. We are all sinners and saints.

David’s response to the parable of the ewe lamb reflects his inability to see and accept his own moral failure. We, too, find it easier to see the sins of others than to recognize our own faults. We lament and demonstrate against the humanitarian crisis in Gaza even as we arm the Israeli Defense Force. We rail against illegal immigration at our southern border even as we tank bi-partisan efforts to address the problem. We judge our neighbor’s addiction to drugs or alcohol while we soothe our anxiety with too much food or pornography or shopping ‘til we drop. Everyone is a judge. Everyone is a critic. Everyone has an inner troll, waiting to drop the bomb of condemnation on anyone other than ourselves. There’s a reason that Jesus cautioned the Pharisees when they judged his ministry and his disciples, saying that they would be better served attending to the plank in their own eye than casting aspersions against the crumb in the eye of their neighbor.

Nathan’s parable serves as a reminder that, not only are we sinner and saint, not only are we more eager to judge the fault of others than to confess our own failings, but we are also all subject to holy judgment. It’s a disquieting contention of scripture that there will be a Day of Judgment when we will be deemed sheep or goats, saints or sinners. David thought the mischief was managed. We think no one knows our sin. But God sees and God knows. In fact, our sins against one another are also sins against God. Nathan said it best in telling David, “Why have you despised the word of the Lord?” Indeed, according to the Ten Commandments, David’s sins of adultery and murder were a violation of Israel’s covenant with God and punishable by death. David knew this. That’s why when he was publicly confronted with his crimes, he confessed, “I have sinned against the Lord.” He threw himself upon the mercy of his eternal judge.

There is a lot of bad news in our scripture today: we are all both sinners and saints, we judge others and fail to accept our shortcomings, and we will one day face judgment. And yet there is good news. The good news is that God is merciful and abounding in steadfast love. When David finally faced facts, Nathan offered God’s mercy, saying, “God has taken away your sin; you will not die.” There would, of course, be consequences that sprang from David’s unjust actions. We all know what it is like to face the music of owning up to what we have done, whether we want to or not. Yet we can trust that God chooses to forgive. There is mercy for us.

We, who are hardwired to judge and have painfully experienced the judgment of others, struggle to trust in the mercy of our God. That steadfast love only becomes real for us when we remember what God has done for us in Jesus of Nazareth. The life of Jesus is an extended metaphor for the limitless love and incomparable mercy of God. In Jesus, we know that God loves us enough to become flesh, live among us, and teach us the better way of the kingdom. In Jesus, we learned that God loves us enough to generously forgive frail disciples, formidable opponents, and even the executioners who nailed him to a cross and gambled for his clothes. Who is in a position to condemn us? Only Jesus. As we celebrate the Lord’s Supper today and partake of the body and blood of our Lord, we remember that God would sooner die than be parted from us. The mercy of our Lord abounds for us. Thanks be to God.

Perhaps we come closest to Jesus and to embodying his Kingdom when we dare to allow God’s mercy to flow through us to others. When we rise above our instinct to judge, when we stop projecting onto others what we loathe in ourselves, when we understand that we are all in need of a savior, it is then that the Kingdom comes alive in life changing ways. We find the wherewithal to truly love our neighbor, and we place our hearts on the altar of God’s love where we are helped and healed and made new. May we go forth to love more and to judge less.

Resources

Dana Harron. “Why Do We Judge Other People?” in Psychology Today, Oct. 21, 2021. Accessed online at https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/living-eating-disorders/202110/why-do-we-judge-other-people

Visweswaran Balasubramanian. “Psychology of Judging – what it reveals about us” in Linked In Pulse, Dec. 8, 2020. Accessed online at https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/psychology-judging-what-reveals-us-visweswaran-balasubramanian/

Dhuvra Koranne. “The Psychology of Judging Others” in Mind Voyage, Nov. 8, 2023. Accessed online at The Psychology of Judging Others | Mind Voyage

Alexandra Sifferlin. “Our Brains Immediately Judge People” in Time Magazine, August 6, 2014. Accessed online at https://time.com/3083667/brain-trustworthiness/

Ted A. Smith. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 11:26-12:13a” in Preaching This Week, August 2, 2009. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 11:26—12:13a – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Ralph Klein. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 11:26-12:13a” in Preaching This Week, August 2, 2015. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 11:26—12:13a – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Roger Nam. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 11:26-12:13a” in Preaching This Week, August 4, 2024. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 11:26—12:13a – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

2 Samuel 11:26—12:13a

²⁶When the wife of Uriah heard that her husband was dead, she made lamentation for him. ²⁷When the mourning was over, David sent and brought her to his house, and she became his wife, and bore him a son. But the thing that David had done displeased the Lord,

12and the Lord sent Nathan to David. He came to him, and said to him, “There were two men in a certain city, the one rich and the other poor. ²The rich man had very many flocks and herds; ³but the poor man had nothing but one little ewe lamb, which he had bought. He brought it up, and it grew up with him and with his children; it used to eat of his meager fare, and drink from his cup, and lie in his bosom, and it was like a daughter to him. ⁴Now there came a traveler to the rich man, and he was loath to take one of his own flock or herd to prepare for the wayfarer who had come to him, but he took the poor man’s lamb, and prepared that for the guest who had come to him.” ⁵Then David’s anger was greatly kindled against the man. He said to Nathan, “As the Lord lives, the man who has done this deserves to die; ⁶he shall restore the lamb fourfold, because he did this thing, and because he had no pity.” ⁷Nathan said to David, “You are the man! Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel: I anointed you king over Israel, and I rescued you from the hand of Saul; ⁸I gave you your master’s house, and your master’s wives into your bosom, and gave you the house of Israel and of Judah; and if that had been too little, I would have added as much more. ⁹Why have you despised the word of the Lord, to do what is evil in his sight? You have struck down Uriah the Hittite with the sword, and have taken his wife to be your wife, and have killed him with the sword of the Ammonites. ¹⁰Now therefore the sword shall never depart from your house, for you have despised me, and have taken the wife of Uriah the Hittite to be your wife. ¹¹Thus says the Lord: I will raise up trouble against you from within your own house; and I will take your wives before your eyes, and give them to your neighbor, and he shall lie with your wives in the sight of this very sun. ¹²For you did it secretly; but I will do this thing before all Israel, and before the sun.” ¹³David said to Nathan, “I have sinned against the Lord.” Nathan said to David, “Now the Lord has put away your sin; you shall not die.

The Tangled Web

July 28, 2024 / reverendjoannwhite / 1 Comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Tangled Web” 2 Samuel 11:1-15

The abuse of power is the misuse of our authority. We may oppress other people or coerce them to do wrong. It can happen in politics, in the workplace, or even in our own homes. The 18^th century French philosopher Montesquieu, who was the first to formulate the separation of powers in government, once wrote, “Constant experience shows us that every man invested with power is apt to abuse it, and to carry his authority as far as it will go.”

On the American political front, perhaps the most notorious late-twentieth-century example of abuse of power was Watergate. In 1972, President Richard Nixon and his reelection committee engaged in illegal clandestine operations and got caught. On June 17^th of that year, five burglars were arrested by plainclothes police officers in the Democratic National Headquarters on the sixth floor of the Watergate office building. The team was planting listening devices and photographing files. In the investigation that followed, forty government officials were indicted. Eight went to jail, including White House staff members HR Haldeman and John Erlichman, as well as Attorney General John Mitchell. When tape recordings linked the President to the burglary and cover-up, Nixon resigned, saying that he no longer had “a strong enough political base” with which to govern.

Power is abused in the workplace. 41.4% of workers say that they have experienced psychological aggression and bullying on the job. We’ve had bosses who intentionally embarrass workers, mock their mistakes, spread stories, shout, blame, and threaten. It may go so far as sabotaging someone’s career or manipulating co-workers to join in the abuse, creating a toxic workplace. Does any of this sound uncomfortably familiar? In one study, more than half of women reported that they have been victims of unwanted sexual behavior at work. That’s an unfortunate reality that was long kept quiet until the #MeToo movement made it headline news. Powerful people in the entertainment industry, like Harvey Weinstein and Bill Cosby, have lost high-profile court cases for sexually exploiting vulnerable women.

Our scripture reading this morning is all about the abuse of power. When the Israelites demanded a king, God warned them of the consequences (1 Sam. 8). Sounding a lot like Montesquieu, God had cautioned that a king would lord it over them: take their sons and deploy them in endless battles, take their daughters “to become perfumers, cooks, and bakers,” take the best of their harvest, vineyards, slaves, and livestock. Despite this, the people clamored for a king to rule over them. Things hadn’t gone so well with the first king, Saul, but then Samuel anointed David, the shepherd boy with a heart for God.

At first, it seemed that the Lord had been overly pessimistic about human nature. David proved his loyalty to Israel and God. He defeated Goliath. He led the Israelite troops in their defeat of their enemies. He lamented the deaths of Saul and Jonathan. He earned the loyalty and respect of all twelve tribes. He sang and danced with holy joy before the Ark of the Covenant.

Yet as our reading begins, we encounter a middle-aged David. The bored king used his royal privilege to remain behind while Joab and the army lay siege to Rabbah. Unable to sleep, David spent an evening spying on his neighbors from the roof of his palace. He saw a young woman, Bathsheba, engaged in the ritual bath of purification that was practiced by observant women after their monthly cycle. Enthralled by Bathsheba’s beauty, the king sent guards to bring her to the palace where he sexually exploited her and then threw her away, sending her back to home. David believed that his power and her shame would force her to keep the secret of his abuse. When the violated Bathsheba later sent word that she was pregnant, David further exploited his power with the proxy murder of Uriah, after the man proved to be so righteous that he would not break his vow of celibacy for battle, even when pressured to do so by his king.

It’s a terrible story. As it reaches its inevitable conclusion, David feels that all the mischief has been managed. He shows no signs of remorse. And the pregnant Bathsheba ends up married to the man who raped her and murdered her husband, a man who already had eight wives and concubines, as well as sexual access to all the servants, slaves, and prostitutes of his kingdom.

It’s interesting to look at the history of interpretation for this story. Scholars and preachers have portrayed Bathsheba as a scheming seductress, who wantonly induces the king’s desire. They have also suggested that this is a simple case of temptation, that the beauty of Bathsheba overcame the king’s better judgment, and one mistake led to another. We have even been subjected to a Hollywood retelling that casts David and Bathsheba as star-crossed lovers whose irresistible affections set into motion tragic events. Let’s be honest. Those ways of looking at the story are all ways of blaming the victim, of making the righteous Bathsheba responsible for the sexual assault that she endured when David’s guards showed up at her door to take her into custody.

Some things never change. Police and District Attorneys will tell you how very difficult it is to prosecute rape cases. Victims are characterized as promiscuous sluts. Their clothing or demeanor is said to have been “just asking for it.” And the victims themselves struggle with the shame of making public their experience of abuse—even as they are re-traumatized by cross-examination, publicity, and innuendo in the court of public opinion.

The story of David’s actions also reveals that the abuse of power has multiple victims. Bathsheba is obviously wronged. But so are the guards who must collect and deliver Bathsheba on the king’s orders. They know what will happen when she is left alone in the company of the king, without a father or husband to protect her. General Joab is caught in David’s terrible web. He must engineer the death of Uriah, a valiant and loyal soldier under his command, or face the consequences of disobeying a direct order from his king. Even the Ammonites, Israel’s enemies, are implicated as they are used to fire the arrows that will bring to fruition David’s murderous scheme.

Abuses of power have many victims. President Richard Nixon’s bid to ensure his continued power may have targeted the DNC, but look at all the people who were caught in his tangled web: the five Cuban ex-patriots who enacted the burglary, the forty White House officials who were indicted, the eight men who went jail because they acted on the President’s orders, and ultimately the American people whose trust in free and fair elections was undermined by the realities of political intrigue and abuse.

The same is true in our workplaces. Executives who exploit their power to dip into the corporate till exploit the trust of their board, rob their shareholders, and draw their families into their malfeasance. Workplace bullies harm not only the colleagues they abuse, but also their co-workers who are coopted into shunning the victim, covering up for the boss’s sins, or perpetrating their own abuse in a jobsite that becomes dog-eat-dog. Workers who are sexually harassed are wronged—and so are their spouses or their boyfriends or girlfriends, so are their children.

Perhaps what is most disturbing about how we have historically responded to stories like the one we are considering today is that it reveals our tendency to want to protect those who are in power, especially if their power serves our own interest. We blame Bathsheba instead of David. We give the pilfering CEO a golden parachute, and they move on to their next six-figure job where they do the same thing. We make excuses for the rage-a-holic boss, saying he’s just having a bad day, or she is going through a rough time at home, or look at how productive they are, making money for the company. We justify the antics of favorite politicians, thinking that while we don’t like what they say or do, at least they will ensure that the policies we prefer will be enacted.

In our summer sermon series, David has been our hero in the faith, but this week, as the power he wields goes to his head, David becomes our anti-hero. Indeed, his actions are the antithesis of our Lord Jesus, who came with the power of God almighty and chose to use that holy power to help and heal. Instead of lording it over the people, Jesus lived with and for the people, showing them the better way of love. And when he ran afoul of the powers of empire and temple, Jesus revealed the limitless breadth of that love, surrendering his power and laying down his life on the cross for us. Jesus set an example that continues to call us to responsibly use the authority that has been placed in our hands.

It is time for us to stop enabling abusers. It is time for us to honestly look at biblical stories like David and Bathsheba. It is time for us to honestly look at political and workplace misconduct and name those actions for what they truly are: abuses of power. It really is that simple. May we go forth to hold power responsibly and demand that others do the same.

Resources

Manuela Priesemuth. “Time’s Up for Toxic Workplaces” in Harvard Business Review, June 19, 2020. Accessed online at https://hbr.org/2020/06/times-up-for-toxic-workplaces

Coline de Silans. “Power tripping: what to do when someone misuses their authority at work,” in Welcome to the Jungle, Sept. 22, 2020. Accessed online at https://www.welcometothejungle.com/en/articles/preventing-power-tripping-abuse-at-work

Rick Perlstein. “Watergate Scandal” in Britannica, July 24, 2024. Accessed online at https://www.britannica.com/event/Watergate-Scandal

Richard W. Nysse. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 11:1-15” in Preaching This Week, July 26, 2009. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 11:1-15 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Gennifer Brooks. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 11:1-15” in Preaching This Week, July 29, 2018. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 11:1-15 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Timothy L. Adkins-Jones. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 11:1-15” in Preaching This Week, July 25, 2021. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 11:1-15 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Wil Gafney. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 11:1-15” in Preaching This Week, July 26, 2015. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 11:1-15 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

2 Samuel 11:1-15

11 In the spring when kings march out to war, David sent Joab with his officers and all Israel. They destroyed the Ammonites and besieged Rabbah, but David remained in Jerusalem.

²One evening David got up from his bed and strolled around on the roof of the palace. From the roof he saw a woman bathing—a very beautiful woman. ³So David sent someone to inquire about her, and he reported, “This is Bathsheba, daughter of Eliam and wife of Uriah the Hittite.”

⁴David sent messengers to get her, and when she came to him, he slept with her. Now she had just been purifying herself from her uncleanness. Afterward, she returned home. ⁵The woman conceived and sent word to inform David: “I am pregnant.”

⁶David sent orders to Joab: “Send me Uriah the Hittite.” So Joab sent Uriah to David. ⁷When Uriah came to him, David asked how Joab and the troops were doing and how the war was going. ⁸Then he said to Uriah, “Go down to your house and wash your feet.” So Uriah left the palace, and a gift from the king followed him. ⁹But Uriah slept at the door of the palace with all his master’s servants; he did not go down to his house.

¹⁰When it was reported to David, “Uriah didn’t go home,” David questioned Uriah, “Haven’t you just come from a journey? Why didn’t you go home?”

¹¹Uriah answered David, “The ark, Israel, and Judah are dwelling in tents, and my master Joab and his soldiers are camping in the open field. How can I enter my house to eat and drink and sleep with my wife? As surely as you live and by your life, I will not do this!”

¹²“Stay here today also,” David said to Uriah, “and tomorrow I will send you back.” So Uriah stayed in Jerusalem that day and the next. ¹³Then David invited Uriah to eat and drink with him, and David got him drunk. He went out in the evening to lie down on his cot with his master’s servants, but he did not go home.

¹⁴The next morning David wrote a letter to Joab and sent it with Uriah. ¹⁵In the letter he wrote:

Put Uriah at the front of the fiercest fighting, then withdraw from him so that he is struck down and dies.

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

Facing the Giant

July 21, 2024 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Facing the Giant” 1 Samuel 17

Giant stories are as old as humanity. In that most ancient of epics The Odyssey, Homer tells the tale of Polyphemus, the gigantic, one-eyed, man-eating son of Poseidon. As Odysseus and his crew voyaged home from the sack of Troy, they were captured by the monstrous Polyphemus. The giant ate them two at a time until the wily Odysseus outwitted Polyphemus, blinding his foe and making an escape.

Closer to home, the Algonquin people of the northern US and Canada have long told the story of the Wendigo, a giant humanoid with a heart of ice. You know the Wendigo is near by the foul smell of rotting meat and an unseasonable chill in the air. The Wendigo has an insatiable desire for human flesh. He stalks and eats people, tearing their skin with sharp claws and feasting with yellowed fangs.

When I lived in Oregon, I was told to be on the lookout for Bigfoot. The hairy, smelly, fifteen-foot-tall giant moved silently through the forest, leaving behind footprints up to 24” long and 8” wide. Spanish explorers first reported accounts of Bigfoot in the 1500s. More recently, the giant was blamed for an attack on gold prospectors on Mt. St. Helen in 1924 and the death of three migrant workers in the 1990s. A local group near the Siskiyou National Forest built a trap for the giant with reinforced concrete walls and a metal door that slid shut when sprung. They caught several bears, but no Bigfoot. When I saw the trap while hiking the Collings Mountain Trail, it was filled with empty beer cans. Either high school partiers have made it a favorite hang-out or Bigfoot has a taste for Budweiser.

Giants are huge, overwhelming, and deadly. When facing the giant, we are terrified, ready to run for our lives or paralyzed by fear. In facing the giant, we feel outmatched and hopeless. We know that we are in for the fight of our lives—and there’s a good chance that when the battle ends, we’ll be eaten.

David faced off against the Philistine giant Goliath of Gath, a hardened warrior, nearly ten-feet-tall. His armor was impregnable. A massive bronze helmet shielded his head. 125 pounds of chainmail protected his torso. Elaborate bronze grieves covered his legs. He brandished an enormous curved bronze scimitar, a massive spear with a lethal twenty-pound iron head, and a great sword—sharp enough to cut a man’s head off. For forty mornings and evenings, Goliath strode onto the field of battle and issued his terrible challenge to the Israelites—meet me in mortal combat, man-to-man, winner take all.

The Israelites saw the mighty Goliath, heard his challenge, and were “dismayed and greatly afraid.” Their hearts raced, their knees knocked, and their bowels loosened. It was all they could do not to turn tail and run. Giants can do that to us.

We may not face Polyphemus or Bigfoot, the Wendigo or Goliath, but we all face giants. Our giants are challenges that feel ten-feet-tall. They’re problems that are huge, overwhelming, and deadly. We all have times when we feel like a frightened child, facing a monster who can eat us alive.

We face the giant of family dysfunction. Our family may look good on the outside, but we know what goes on behind closed doors. We know the harsh and hurtful words that have been spoken. We know the mortal wounds to our heart of hearts. We know the deep, dark secrets, that we guard with our lives: domestic violence, mental illness, and sexual abuse.

We know the giants of our own making, giants that grow from our choices, misguided values, or the intense pressures of our society. We wrestle with the giant of addiction to alcohol or prescription drugs, gambling or cigarettes. We struggle with workplace giants—the mind-numbing work we cannot leave; the beastly boss who threatens and bullies; the soul-stealing ethical corners we cut to find a better bottom line. We battle with the giant of debt, born of greed, over-consumption, student loans, or simply keeping up with the Joneses.

We know the giants who invade. These are the giants who come uninvited, armed with catastrophe, the giants of accident, injury, and disability. We battle the giants of chronic disease: diabetes and COPD, heart trouble and arthritis. We tremble before the giant of cancer that multiplies uninvited within our bodies in a silent deadly tide.

We all have giants. We stand before them, feeling like those Israelites did as Goliath called them to a fight to the death, winner take all. Our giants inspire fear, hopelessness, and despair. The giant bellows its challenge and our hearts race and guts churn. We’re ready to run and hide because the odds seem good that we’ll soon be eaten.

When Goliath issued his challenge for the eighty-first time, David heard. Instead of feeling overwhelmed by Goliath, David took action. He offered his service as Israel’s champion. There was only one problem. David was the least likely person in the Valley of Elah to take on a giant—just a boy, all peach fuzz, baby fat, and gangly arms and legs. He had never been in combat before. And those stories he told about battling lions and bears with his bare hands—they sound like exaggerations at best or as Hebrew scholar John Holbert suggests, “egregious lies.”

When Saul tried to suit the boy up with the proper armor to give him a fighting chance, the kid couldn’t even walk. So, David went into battle armed only with the rustic weapons that he used to keep his flock safe—his staff, a sling shot, and five stones. As the gigantic Goliath and little David faced off at the line of battle, talking trash to one another, the Philistines rubbed their hands thinking of the spoils of war, while the whole host of Israel prepared for the worst.

Then, the impossible happened. When Goliath lumbered out, brandishing his weapons of death, David ran to meet his enemy.The stone he slung found the only chink in the giant’s impregnable armor. Goliath crumbled to the ground. Before you could say Polyphemus or Bigfoot, Wendigo or Goliath, David used the giant’s own sword to cut off his huge head, and it was the Philistines—not the Israelites—who ran for their lives.

That David, he knew how to face the giant. He has a few lessons to teach us. Are we ready?

To start with, we must face the giant. Even though we don’t want to, even though every bone in our body shouts NO, face the giant we must. Because if we don’t, then we pass on to the next generation a legacy of family dysfunction. If we don’t, our addiction destroys our health and our family. If we don’t, the stress of our toxic workplace causes a heart attack that robs us of our retirement. If we don’t, our health declines as we deny our diagnosis, light another cigarette, help ourselves to that slice of cake, or ignore the blood in our stool. Refusing to face the giant limits us to a life of fear in which we are either paralyzed or on the run. If we won’t face the giant, then we aren’t really free to live because the giant is the one who drives our bus.

David’s second lesson in giant killing is that we don’t have to be a hero to face the giant. We don’t need to be the biggest and strongest. We don’t need to have the best and most glorious resources at our fingertips—the bronze helmet, the coat of mail, the king’s sword. When we face the giant, we feel inadequate—all peach fuzz and baby fat. But God has given us gifts and abilities that can be effective in taking on giants. If you ask a friend to name your gifts, they’ll come up with a lengthy list—persistence, moral courage, honesty, faith, friends, a voice that can speak the truth, the ability to ask for help. God gives us the gifts and the grit to take a stand. Believe it, my friends.

David’s third lesson in giant killing is that when we face trouble, we must call on the name of the Lord. In facing our giants, we think it’s all up to us. We roll up our sleeves, stiffen our upper lip, and wade into battle alone. Our self-reliance is a little like Goliath, relying on his brute strength and impressive weapons. Look where that got him. We forget that the most valuable resources in facing our giants are spiritual. We can wade into battle with the name of the great God of Israel upon our lips, the God who does not save by sword and spear. We can place our giants squarely in the hands of the almighty God, who wins the victory, even over death. We can trust that through Jesus the powers of sin and evil have already been defeated, the battle has been won for us. That doesn’t mean we’ll be instantly delivered from all that frightens and holds us captive, yet it does mean that we can face trouble head-on with confidence because the Lord is more than a match for our giants. Can I get an, “Amen”?

Everyone knows a few giant stories, don’t we? Giants are huge, overwhelming, and deadly. Facing the giant, we feel outmatched and hopeless, like we are in for the fight of our lives. It’s a good thing we’ve had some lessons in giant killing from David this morning. May we go forth to face our giants. May we trust in our God-given gifts and abilities. May we remember that God is always at work. With the Lord’s help, there is no giant that we cannot face. Thanks be to God.

Resources

John C. Holbert. “In the Name of YHWH” in Opening the Old Testament, 2005. Accessed online at In The Name Of YHWH? Reflections On 1 Samuel 17:1A, 4-11, 19-23, 32-39 (patheos.com)

Ralph W. Klein. “Commentary on 1 Samuel 17” in Preaching This Week, June 21, 2009. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-12-2/commentary-on-1-samuel-171-4-11-19-23-32-49-2

Samuel Giere, Jr. “Commentary on 1 Samuel 17” in Preaching This Week, June 24, 2012. Accessed online at Commentary on 1 Samuel 17:[1a, 4-11, 19-23] 32-49 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Roger Nam. “Commentary on 1 Samuel 17” in Preaching This Week, June 21, 2015. Accessed online at Commentary on 1 Samuel 17:[1a, 4-11, 19-23] 32-49 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

1 Samuel 17:[1a, 4-11, 19-23] 32-49

17Now the Philistines gathered their armies for battle; ⁴And there came out from the camp of the Philistines a champion named Goliath, of Gath, whose height was six cubits and a span. ⁵He had a helmet of bronze on his head, and he was armed with a coat of mail; the weight of the coat was five thousand shekels of bronze. ⁶He had greaves of bronze on his legs and a javelin of bronze slung between his shoulders. ⁷The shaft of his spear was like a weaver’s beam, and his spear’s head weighed six hundred shekels of iron; and his shield-bearer went before him. ⁸He stood and shouted to the ranks of Israel, “Why have you come out to draw up for battle? Am I not a Philistine, and are you not servants of Saul? Choose a man for yourselves, and let him come down to me. ⁹If he is able to fight with me and kill me, then we will be your servants; but if I prevail against him and kill him, then you shall be our servants and serve us.” ¹⁰And the Philistine said, “Today I defy the ranks of Israel! Give me a man, that we may fight together.” ¹¹When Saul and all Israel heard these words of the Philistine, they were dismayed and greatly afraid. ¹⁹Now Saul, and they, and all the men of Israel, were in the valley of Elah, fighting with the Philistines. ²⁰David rose early in the morning, left the sheep with a keeper, took the provisions, and went as Jesse had commanded him. He came to the encampment as the army was going forth to the battle line, shouting the war cry. ²¹Israel and the Philistines drew up for battle, army against army. ²²David left the things in charge of the keeper of the baggage, ran to the ranks, and went and greeted his brothers. ²³As he talked with them, the champion, the Philistine of Gath, Goliath by name, came up out of the ranks of the Philistines, and spoke the same words as before. And David heard him.] ³²David said to Saul, “Let no one’s heart fail because of him; your servant will go and fight with this Philistine.” ³³Saul said to David, “You are not able to go against this Philistine to fight with him; for you are just a boy, and he has been a warrior from his youth.” ³⁴But David said to Saul, “Your servant used to keep sheep for his father; and whenever a lion or a bear came, and took a lamb from the flock, ³⁵I went after it and struck it down, rescuing the lamb from its mouth; and if it turned against me, I would catch it by the jaw, strike it down, and kill it. ³⁶Your servant has killed both lions and bears; and this uncircumcised Philistine shall be like one of them, since he has defied the armies of the living God.” ³⁷David said, “The Lord, who saved me from the paw of the lion and from the paw of the bear, will save me from the hand of this Philistine.” So Saul said to David, “Go, and may the Lord be with you!” ³⁸Saul clothed David with his armor; he put a bronze helmet on his head and clothed him with a coat of mail. ³⁹David strapped Saul’s sword over the armor, and he tried in vain to walk, for he was not used to them. Then David said to Saul, “I cannot walk with these; for I am not used to them.” So David removed them. ⁴⁰Then he took his staff in his hand, and chose five smooth stones from the wadi, and put them in his shepherd’s bag, in the pouch; his sling was in his hand, and he drew near to the Philistine. ⁴¹The Philistine came on and drew near to David, with his shield-bearer in front of him. ⁴²When the Philistine looked and saw David, he disdained him, for he was only a youth, ruddy and handsome in appearance. ⁴³The Philistine said to David, “Am I a dog, that you come to me with sticks?” And the Philistine cursed David by his gods. ⁴⁴The Philistine said to David, “Come to me, and I will give your flesh to the birds of the air and to the wild animals of the field.” ⁴⁵But David said to the Philistine, “You come to me with sword and spear and javelin; but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. ⁴⁶This very day the Lord will deliver you into my hand, and I will strike you down and cut off your head; and I will give the dead bodies of the Philistine army this very day to the birds of the air and to the wild animals of the earth, so that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel, ⁴⁷and that all this assembly may know that the Lord does not save by sword and spear; for the battle is the Lord’s and he will give you into our hand.” ⁴⁸When the Philistine drew nearer to meet David, David ran quickly toward the battle line to meet the Philistine. ⁴⁹David put his hand in his bag, took out a stone, slung it, and struck the Philistine on his forehead; the stone sank into his forehead, and he fell face down on the ground.

Dance Like No One Is Watching

July 14, 2024 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Dance Like No One Is Watching” 2 Sam. 6:1-5, 12b-19

In his first letter to Timothy, the Apostle Paul described God as eternal, immortal, and invisible, beyond the full understanding of us, mere mortals. Yet, we have all had moments when we have sensed that we are truly in the presence of the holy. During my first year in seminary, I often worshipped at the Rockefeller Chapel of the University of Chicago. The chapel is more cathedral than church, a cavernous stone space with soaring gothic architecture and somber-hued stained glass in shades of grey, blue, and purple. High above the chancel, though, is the “Light and Fire” window, a dazzling multi-colored stained-glass window, a gift of the class of 1928. Five tongues of flame surge forth from a swirling center of white and yellow, which seems to pulse against a sea of blues. To me, it looked like the moment that God sent creation hurtling across the multiverse with a big bang, or perhaps the burning bush that beckoned to Moses, or the light of Pentecost breaking forth upon waiting disciples. It invited me to a place of reverent awe, to a glimpse of the creator who lies both within and beyond creation.

I know some of you have similarly sensed the holy in creativity. You have been drawn into deep contemplation by Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel ceiling where the hand of God reaches forth to the waking Adam. Or, you have heard the voice of angels while listening Bach’s St. Matthew Passion in the heart-rending aria “Lord, Have Mercy on Me,” Erbarma Dich.

For others, the nearness of God is sensed in family and human connection. We know there is a God in the wonder of love and the mystery of two made one, who somehow become so much more. We marvel at the numinous in the birth of a baby or the sweet scent of our child’s neck when they reach up to embrace us as we tuck them into bed. We feel something holy when all the generations gather at the holiday dinner table and harmony abounds.

For many of us who call the Adirondacks home, we know the Creator in the creation. As I was writing this message, I looked out the window of my home study to see birch leaves rippling in the summer breeze and a blue heron flying above, wide wings languidly moving, long legs trailing elegantly behind. Praise the Lord. We have glimpsed God on the mountaintop with the Cascade chain of lakes stretched out at our feet, or while paddling our canoes on still waters to the scold of the kingfisher, or while pulling over to watch the sunset’s ebb over Lake Colby.

We may even feel the presence of God right here, in these pews that curve like an embrace. We feel the nearness of God in the sharing of joys and concerns and the offering of prayers. We sense God’s love in the love of a church family that blesses us with compassion in grief and hot meals in times of recovery. We know the faithfulness of God in the remembrance of those who have sat in these pews long before us and in the anticipation of those who will one day follow us.

God is, indeed, eternal, immortal, and invisible, beyond the full understanding of us, mere mortals. Yet we are not strangers to the holy. We all have stories that we could tell.

For our Israelite ancestors, God was known in the Ark of the Covenant. Built in accordance with the instructions that God imparted to Moses on Mt. Sinai, the ark was an acacia wood box, overlaid with finely wrought gold, that held the stone tablets of the Ten Commandments (Ex. 37:1-9). It was topped by the mercy seat – two golden cherubim with wings outstretched to meet in the middle. There, the Israelites believed, the eternal, immortal, and invisible God was enthroned.

The ark traveled with the Hebrew people through the wilderness, led them over Jordan, and circled the walls of Jericho until they came tumbling down. The ark was carried into battle, unleashing destructive power against the enemies of Israel. So powerful was the ark that, when it was captured by the Philistines, it continued to fight—unleashing a wave of plague so merciless that the Philistines gave the ark back. As peace found Israel, the ark’s military adventures came to an end, and it rested in a tent sanctuary, all but forgotten by the people.

David had ruled the united tribes for seven years. Together, they had finally won a decisive battle against the Philistines and were acknowledged as a growing military and economic power on the stage of the ancient Near East. The crafty David had forged alliances by adding wives and concubines to his growing royal retinue. He had fathered seventeen sons, and we’ll never know how many daughters. The City of David, Jerusalem, shone as a light on a hill, a symbol of just how far those former slaves had come since leaving behind the bondage of Egypt.

Today’s reading gives us a feeling for the gratitude that David felt. On the threshold of middle age, David took stock of his rise from youngest son and shepherd boy to the leader of a mighty nation. David knew that he had God to thank. And in a moment of deep spiritual understanding, David realized that the Ark of the Covenant must be at the center of the life of Israel. Only the ark could be a visible reminder that all they had and all that they were as a nation came from God alone, eternal, immortal, invisible, omnipotent.

So, David traded his royal robes for the simple linen ephod (loin cloth) of the humblest of priests, and he led the people in an ecstatic rite of worship to bring the Ark of the Covenant from the forgotten margins of history to the very heart of the nation. With gratitude and awe, David poured out his soul, lifting his voice in song and allowing his feet to find the rhythm of praise. Soon, all of Israel followed along in a dizzying parade of thanksgiving. The blood of sacrifice was poured out, in seemingly endless libation. It was a scandalous, over-the-top, decadent display, so impassioned that it made the queen blush when, ten miles into the parade, she saw her battle-scarred husband, sweat-soaked, blood-spattered, nearly-naked, hobbling along and croaking songs of praise. The scripture says that everyone got blessed and fed. They returned to their homes remembering the goodness of God and the rightness of their thanks and praise.

We no longer have the Ark of the Covenant at the center of Jerusalem as a reminder of all that God has done for us. Some say it was carried off in the Babylonian invasion, when the Lord left Israel to the consequence of their sin and disobedience. Others say that it was hidden by priests somewhere, deep below the holy city and will one day be unearthed. Fans of Indiana Jones winkingly argue that the ark is in permanent storage, crated and long-forgotten in a government warehouse. Our assurance that God is with us no longer comes from the ark. It’s found in our Lord Jesus, who promised his disciples that he would always be with us, even to the end of time. It’s found in the Holy Spirit, who fills us with the sacred awareness that allows us to see beyond the ordinary to the extraordinary.

David’s story is a powerful reminder to remember that all we have and all we are is a gift from God. The almighty, eternal, immortal, invisible, and only wise God is everywhere and all the time. God continues to claim God’s place at the center of our hearts and our lives. Our ancestors in the Reformed Faith affirmed this in 1648, when they wrote the first question and answer to the Westminster Shorter Catechism, “What is the chief end of humanity? Our chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy God forever.” Indeed, the Reformers saw in our worship, here and now, a dim anticipation of the endless rejoicing that we will one day know in that far brighter light, on that far better shore.

May we hear David’s invitation to praise and give thanks for all that the Lord has done for us. We don’t have to strip down to our linen ephod. We don’t have to dance like no one is watching. We don’t have to sing ourselves hoarse. We don’t have to offer up bloody sacrifices. We don’t have to scandalize the neighbors.

Instead, we can take the time to notice, name, and rejoice in the goodness of God that finds us every day. We can shed tears of joy and reverence in listening to music that makes our spirit soar. We can hold the littlest member of the family close and dance around the living room. We can raise our arms at the mountain summit or the paddle’s end and wiggle our fingers in the jazz hands of joy or pump our fist in the acknowledgement of majesty. We can make a point of singing a daily doxology to the Lord, who sits enthroned upon the cherubim and finds a home in our hearts.

Let’s take time this week to praise and delight in the Lord, shifting God from the forgotten corners of our lives to the very center of our being, right where God belongs.

Resources

Richard Nysse. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 6:1-5, 12b-19” in Preaching This Week, July 12, 2009. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Samuel Giere. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 6:1-5, 12b-19” in Preaching This Week, July 15, 2018. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Amy G. Oden. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 6:1-5, 12b-19” in Preaching This Week, July 11, 2021. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Klaus-Peter Adam. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 6:1-5, 12b-19” in Preaching This Week, July 14, 2024. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19

6David again gathered all the chosen men of Israel, thirty thousand. ²David and all the people with him set out and went from Baale-judah, to bring up from there the ark of God, which is called by the name of the Lord of hosts who is enthroned on the cherubim. ³They carried the ark of God on a new cart, and brought it out of the house of Abinadab, which was on the hill. Uzzah and Ahio, the sons of Abinadab, were driving the new cart ⁴with the ark of God; and Ahio went in front of the ark. ⁵David and all the house of Israel were dancing before the Lord with all their might, with songs and lyres and harps and tambourines and castanets and cymbals. ¹²It was told King David, “The Lord has blessed the household of Obed-edom and all that belongs to him, because of the ark of God.” So, David went and brought up the ark of God from the house of Obed-edom to the city of David with rejoicing; ¹³and when those who bore the ark of the Lord had gone six paces, he sacrificed an ox and a fatling. ¹⁴David danced before the Lord with all his might; David was girded with a linen ephod. ¹⁵So David and all the house of Israel brought up the ark of the Lord with shouting, and with the sound of the trumpet. ¹⁶As the ark of the Lord came into the city of David, Michal daughter of Saul looked out of the window and saw King David leaping and dancing before the Lord; and she despised him in her heart. ¹⁷They brought in the ark of the Lord, and set it in its place, inside the tent that David had pitched for it; and David offered burnt offerings and offerings of well-being before the Lord. ¹⁸When David had finished offering the burnt offerings and the offerings of well-being, he blessed the people in the name of the Lord of hosts, ¹⁹and distributed food among all the people, the whole multitude of Israel, both men and women, to each a cake of bread, a portion of meat, and a cake of raisins. Then all the people went back to their homes.

“Light and Fire,” Rockefeller Memorial Chapel, University of Chicago

Shepherd of the People

July 7, 2024 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Shepherd of the People” 2 Sam. 5:1-5, 9-10

It took me a decade after my undergraduate degree, to figure out that God was calling me to seminary. Raised in a conservative Baptist tradition that denied the spiritual authority of women, I had never seen someone like me preach or teach adult Sunday School until I was a young adult, out church shopping in Washington, DC. I’ll never forget the Sunday morning when I saw Associate Pastor Alice Anderson on the chancel of the New York Avenue Presbyterian Church. I had an instant sense of kinship and recognition, as if God were saying, “Hey, have I got a job for you.”

Even so, when I started my Master of Divinity program, I wasn’t willing to commit to being a pastor. I had been involved in New York Avenue’s ministry to homeless neighbors, so I thought God might be calling me to church-based mission and outreach. When I was required to do field studies in my second year of seminary, working part-time in a church for a year, those plans took a different turn.

I found a great church with an active homeless shelter for my field studies. There I imagined I could learn a lot about the spiritual and practical needs of vulnerable neighbors while checking that whole church-experience-thing off my list of degree requirements. I had never even spoken in a worship service before I served Lincoln Park Presbyterian Church, but suddenly, I was expected to teach the adult Sunday School class, lead worship every Sunday, and take turns preaching. That would have made the heads of my long-ago Baptist Sunday School teachers spin.

It happened after my first sermon. I wish I could tell you what scripture I chose or what I said, but I can tell you that it was delivered in a voice that folks had to lean forward to hear. Somehow, it connected. My senior pastor and the committee that was mentoring me told me that I needed to rethink my calling. “Sure,” they said, “you could do a lot of good as an outreach worker in a non-profit or a large church, but have you really thought about how much good you could do as a pastor?” They pointed to the sermon I had delivered and said, “Joann, we believe you are meant to preach the gospel.”

Our reading from Second Samuel describes the affirmation that David received from the people, an invitation to kingship that would lead to forty years of national leadership. Seven years earlier, King Saul and his son Jonathan had died in battle with the Philistines. While the southern tribes of Judah and Simeon had acclaimed David their King, the ten northern tribes had limped along with Saul’s remaining son Ishbaal as king until he was assassinated, sending the north into two years of political chaos.

It had been more than two decades since God had instructed Samuel to anoint the shepherd boy David. David had patiently waited. Even when Saul’s affection for him shifted to jealousy, rage, and death threats, David had refrained from asserting his claim to the monarchy. He had been unwilling to divide the nation and unwilling to bear arms against his former mentor Saul, who long ago had also been anointed as the Messiah.

Yahweh had chosen David as the future king, David knew in himself the gifts for leadership and courage, but would the people agree? The ten northern tribes had been so closely aligned with Saul, could they accept David as Messiah and king?

Often, we need other people to affirm our gifts. We may have a sense of our purpose. We may have some ideas about what we are good at, how our natural abilities and our interests bring us a sense of proficiency, achievement, and even joy. But it’s when others sit up and take notice that it begins to all come together for us.

Today’s reading describes such a moment in the life of David. As all the tribes came to Hebron, they affirmed their kinship, naming David their own flesh and blood. They also acknowledged his gifts for leadership, a leadership unlike Saul’s. While the late king had ruled over the people, David had served with the people.

David had “led them out” to battle and brought them back to safety. The Hebrew verb for “lead out” יָצָא was commonly used to describe a general leading an army, but it was also used for a shepherd leading a flock out to seek fresh grazing and clean water. Through the political chaos that followed Saul’s death, the northern tribes had seen from a distance that David was doing what was needed to lead the people of Judah. David was both a shrewd military strategist who kept the Philistines at bay and a provident sovereign, who tended to the humanitarian needs of his people.

The elders of Israel saw and named David’s gifts. They affirmed the long-ago anointing that David had received at the hands of the Prophet Samuel. A covenant was made between David and the people. The oil of anointing was again poured out on the thirty-year-old David. Yahweh and the people saw that David had what it would take to be king of Israel.

This practice of seeing and naming the gifts of others is authentically biblical. Jesus recognized Peter’s gifts for leadership and said, “Upon this rock I will build my church” (Matt. 16:18). When sister Martha wanted Mary back in the kitchen, Jesus affirmed Mary’s gifts as a disciple, saying, “Mary has chosen the best part, which shall not be taken away from her” (Luke 10:42). The Apostle Paul acknowledged not only the spiritual leadership of Prisca and Aquila but also the faithful risks they took to save his very life (Rom. 16:3-4). Like those saints in the Lincoln Park Presbyterian Church, who challenged me to change my path and pastor a church, faithful people have long noticed and named the ways that God is at work in others, inviting us to use our abilities in service to God’s Kingdom.

We can grow in our ability to notice and name the gifts and abilities of others. Dr. Becky Bailey, award-winning author and educator, encourages teachers to notice and name ten positive behaviors in their grade school classrooms daily. It’s simple habit to form. “Emily, you scooted over so Jon would have more space in the circle. That was helpful!” “Jason, you shared your snack with Robin when she forgot hers. That was kind. Thank you!” Noticing and naming is a win/win discipline. Children are affirmed in their abilities, and just by listening to their teacher’s example, children learn to notice and name the gifts of their peers.

Even if we haven’t had awesome teachers or guardians who practiced this sort of everyday affirmation, there is hope for us yet. Becky Bailey says that we can cultivate the habit for ourselves. Try starting the day with ten pennies in your right pocket. Then pay attention, noticing and naming the good things you see in others. For each person you affirm, slip a penny from the right pocket to the left. If you aren’t sure what to pay attention to, consider physical gifts, like singing, working hard, or fixing things. Consider head gifts, like knowledge, problem solving, questioning, or organizing. Consider heart gifts, like welcoming people, listening, or caregiving. The goal is to have all ten pennies in the left pocket by the end of the day. If you don’t make it, you can try again tomorrow.

When we notice and name the gifts of others, we become a little like those elders from the twelve tribes of Israel, who saw that David had what was needed to be the shepherd of the people. When we affirm the God-given gifts of others, we encourage them to grow, using the fullness of who they are, not only for their personal fulfillment but also for the good of the community. I invite us to raid our piggy banks. Slip ten pennies into your right pocket tomorrow morning, then pay attention. Notice and name, letting people know the good things you see.

When those folks at Lincoln Park Presbyterian Church noticed and named my gifts for worship leadership and preaching, I wasn’t convinced. It would take time, the affirmation of the next two churches I served, a preaching prize, and success as a pastor for youth and families. Twenty-five years later, I know they were right. This is where I was always meant to be all along.

Thanks be to God for those who take the time to notice and name. May we go forth to do the same.

Resources

Ralph W. Klein. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 5:1-5, 9-10” in Preaching This Week, July 5, 2009. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 5:1-5, 9-10 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

David G. Garber, Jr. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 5:1-5, 9-10” in Preaching This Week, July 5, 2015. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 5:1-5, 9-10 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Amy G. Oden. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 5:1-5, 9-10” in Preaching This Week, July 4, 2021. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 5:1-5, 9-10 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Alphonetta Wines. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 5:1-5, 9-10” in Preaching This Week, July 8, 2018. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 5:1-5, 9-10 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Jenny Spencer. “Creating the Habit of Noticing” in Conscious Discipline, Aug. 1, 2017. Accessed online at https://consciousdiscipline.com/creating-the-habit-of-noticing/

John O-Brien and Beth Mount. “Naming Gifts” in Inclusion Alberta, 2019. Accessed online at https://inclusionalberta.org/fms-online-guide/naming-gifts/

2 Samuel 5:1-5, 9-10

5Then all the tribes of Israel came to David at Hebron, and said, “Look, we are your bone and flesh. ²For some time, while Saul was king over us, it was you who led out Israel and brought it in. The Lord said to you: It is you who shall be shepherd of my people Israel, you who shall be ruler over Israel.” ³So all the elders of Israel came to the king at Hebron; and King David made a covenant with them at Hebron before the Lord, and they anointed David king over Israel. ⁴David was thirty years old when he began to reign, and he reigned forty years. ⁵At Hebron he reigned over Judah seven years and six months; and at Jerusalem he reigned over all Israel and Judah thirty-three years. ⁹David occupied the stronghold and named it the city of David. David built the city all around from the Millo inwards. ¹⁰And David became greater and greater, for the Lord, the God of hosts, was with him.

Stronger Than Lions

June 30, 2024 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Stronger Than Lions” 2 Sam. 1:1, 17-27

What do you have to say about your enemy?

The relationship between President John F. Kennedy and his Vice President Lyndon Johnson was notoriously tense. Kennedy’s liberal supporters were shocked when their candidate announced LBJ would be his running mate. Compared to Kennedy and his crew of Ivy League-educated youngsters, LBJ was an old-school street-brawler, a plain-speaking deal-maker who took calculated risks to push his political agenda. Johnson, generally, got what he wanted, giving anyone who stood in his way what journalists would call “the treatment.” This was a one-on-one verbal offensive that employed “supplication, accusation, cajolery, exuberance, scorn, tears, complaint, and the hint of threat”—sometimes all of these together— to win someone to his cause.

In the White House, Kennedy’s staff were at times openly contemptuous of Johnson, especially the president’s brother, Attorney General Robert F. Kennedy. They made fun of LBJ’s down-home, earthy manner. Congressman Tip O’Neill recalled that the Kennedy brothers “had a disdain for Johnson that they didn’t even try to hide…. They actually took pride in snubbing him.” First Lady Jackie Kennedy would later state that, shortly after winning the White House, her husband and his brother conspired to scuttle Johnson’s political future and keep him out of any future run for the presidency.

For his part, Johnson bridled at being sidelined by the President, who denied his requests for workspace adjacent to the oval office and oversight on national security matters. Johnson saw himself as the far-superior politician, unfairly characterized as an illiterate, rude, crude bumpkin. He got even by telling tales about the Kennedy’s checkered political past, including the evening that he sat in on the phone call that President Franklin Roosevelt made to JFK’s father Joe, firing him from his appointment as Ambassador to the United Kingdom. Later, when President, Johnson would pass a law forbidding the appointment of family members to cabinet level positions, known as the nepotism provision; Johnson called it the “Bobby Kennedy law.” Ouch.

Our scripture reading this morning has David singing the praises of his political rival King Saul. It’s one of the earliest psalms of the Bible and would have originally been set to music and sung with accompaniment, perhaps with the harp or horns or percussion. David celebrated the skill of Saul and his son Jonathan in battle, remembering how they worked to unite Israel and transform it from a weak tribal confederacy to a national power to be reckoned with. Until their tragic deaths on Mt. Gilboa, their weapons of war—Saul’s sword and Jonathan’s bow—were ever at work against Israel’s powerful enemies like the Philistines. David celebrated the prosperity that Saul brought to Israel—the thriving trade that clothed Israel’s women with crimson and decked them out with gold jewelry. Saul had given everything for his nation, three of his beloved sons and even his life. David wove all that praise together, uniting it with the repeated refrain, “How the mighty have fallen.”

To write those words of praise, David had to rise above his complex relationship with Saul. David served as Saul’s champion against Goliath; he had been a soldier in Saul’s army. David had lived at Saul’s royal court, under his protection. Saul had even made David family by marrying David to his daughter, the Princess Michal. Saul had been David’s king and mentor, yet Saul had also been David’s rival and enemy. Like Saul, David had been anointed by the Prophet Samuel as Israel’s messiah. As David’s star was rising in Israel, Saul’s star was setting—and Saul knew it. David’s success inspired Saul’s jealousy, paranoia, rage, and death threats. By the time David sang, “O, how the mighty have fallen,” he had been on the outs with Saul for decades. David, the once-trusted champion, had become public enemy number one. That’s a lot to rise above when it’s time to write a memorial.

Centuries later, Jesus, known as the Son of David, challenged his followers to love their enemies and pray for those who persecuted them (Matt. 5:44). Anyone, even a tax collector or Gentile, can love the people who love them. Yet Jesus taught that when we love our enemies, we truly become children of our Father in heaven. In our choice for love, we embody the God who loves us on our worst day and chooses to forgive in us what we label unforgiveable in others. This mind-blowing, humbling choice for love was, of course, best revealed in Jesus, who prayed for the forgiveness of his executioners, welcomed a thief to join him in paradise, and called to discipleship followers who would fail him miserably when he needed them most. Jesus knew, God knows, that when we choose to practice this sort of selfless love, we make a changed future possible, a future where enemies become friends.

Perhaps in David’s words of praise, we have a foretaste of what Jesus would embody. David could have skipped the praise, seized power, and erased the memory of Saul. Instead, he got out his harp and wrote those lovely verses of homage and celebration. He ordered the psalm to be taught to the people of Judah and included in the Book of Jashar – a collection of national songs. In rising above the mixed-feelings he had for Saul and writing a fitting lament for the loss of a gifted but troubled king, David called his fledgling nation to unity, holding together those fragile tribal alliances. David allowed the example of Saul and Jonathan, stronger than lions, to call the people of Israel to heroic deeds in fighting outside enemies. David used the self-sacrifice of Saul and Jonathan to promote self-sacrifice on behalf of the nation. The friendship of David and Jonathan—across dividing lines of national politics—served as a role model for collaboration and bridge building. David’s memorial held Israel together and challenged them to grow into the nation that God had created them to be.

On November 22, 1963, when President Kennedy was assassinated by Lee Harvey Oswald in Dallas, Texas, Vice President Johnson was sworn in as the nation’s 36th president, aboard Air Force One at Dallas Love Field. A shell-shocked Jackie Kennedy stood at his side. Five days later, on November 27, Johnson addressed a joint session of Congress, a speech that was broadcast on national television. His words, part-eulogy, part-call-to-action, were later named the “Let Us Continue” address. It wasn’t easy to write—it took nine drafts. LBJ called Kennedy the “greatest leader of our time,” and said that American dreams had been vitalized by his drive and dedication. He called Americans to unity and the pursuit of our best ideals. Johnsons said no eulogy could more eloquently honor the President’s legacy than to pass the Civil Rights bill for which Kennedy had fought. “We have talked long enough in this country about equal rights,” Johnson said, “We have talked for 100 years or more. Yes, it’s time to write the next chapter—and to write it in the book of law.”

Like David, like Jesus’s instruction to love our enemies, Johnson’s words created the graced space for a nation to find unity and healing. Johnson asked all Americans for their help, saying: “An assassin’s bullet has thrust upon me the awesome burden of the Presidency. I am here today to say I need your help; I cannot bear this burden alone.” Johnson’s “Let Us Continue” speech was interrupted by applause thirty-four times. The newly-sworn-in President closed his remarks with words from “America the Beautiful,” “America, America, God shed His grace on thee, and crown thy good with brotherhood from sea to shining sea.” Immediately thereafter, efforts began to push through the Civil Rights Act, which succeeded, despite considerable resistance from Southern politicians, in July 1964.

What do we have to say about our enemies? We live in an age when it is all too common to shun, criticize, shame, or belittle those whose opinions and convictions differ from our own. Yet history, scripture, and the rule of love suggest that we can make different choices. May we, like David, rise above our mixed and hurt feelings to choose a better way. May we dare to cast the vision for a future where enemies become friends, love prospers, and we grow into the nation that God calls us to become.

Resources

ABC News. “Jacqueline Kennedy Reveals That JFK Feared an LBJ Presidency” in ABCNews: Politics, Sept. 8, 2011. Accessed online at https://abcnews.go.com/Politics/Jacqueline_Kennedy/jacqueline-kennedy-reveals-jfk-feared-lbj-presidency/story?id=14477930

JONATHAN MARTIN and JOHN F. HARRIS. “Caro revives Kennedy-Johnson feud” in Politico, May 13, 2012. Accessed online at https://www.politico.com/story/2012/05/caro-revives-kennedy-johnson-feud-076234.

ALLEN MCDUFFEE. “WHY THE KENNEDYS COULDN’T STAND LYNDON B. JOHNSON” in Grunge, January 11, 2021. Accessed online at https://www.grunge.com/310120/why-the-kennedys-couldnt-stand-lyndon-b-johnson/

Andrew Glass. “LBJ calls on Congress to pass civil rights legislation, Nov. 27, 1963” in Politico, Nov. 27, 2018. Accessed online at https://www.politico.com/story/2018/11/27/lbj-calls-on-congress-to-pass-civil-rights-legislation-nov-27-1963-1012624

Lyndon B. Johnson. (November 27, 1963). Peters, Gerhard; Woolley, John T. (eds.). “Address Before a Joint Session of the Congress”. Lyndon Baines Johnson Library and Museum. The American Presidency Project. Retrieved June 29, 2024.

Roger Nam. “Commentary on 2 Samuel 1:1, 17-27” in Preaching This Week, June 30, 2024. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 1:1, 17-27 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

David G. Garber, Jr. “Commentary on 2 Samuel 1:1, 17-27” in Preaching This Week, June 28, 2015. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 1:1, 17-27 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Samuel Giere. “Commentary on 2 Samuel 1:1, 17-27” in Preaching This Week, July 1, 2012. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 1:1, 17-27 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

2 Samuel 1:1, 17-27

1After the death of Saul, when David had returned from defeating the Amalekites, David remained two days in Ziklag.

¹⁷David intoned this lamentation over Saul and his son Jonathan. ¹⁸(He ordered that The Song of the Bow be taught to the people of Judah; it is written in the Book of Jashar.) He said: ¹⁹Your glory, O Israel, lies slain upon your high places! How the mighty have fallen! ²⁰Tell it not in Gath, proclaim it not in the streets of Ashkelon; or the daughters of the Philistines will rejoice, the daughters of the uncircumcised will exult. ²¹You mountains of Gilboa, let there be no dew or rain upon you, nor bounteous fields! For there the shield of the mighty was defiled, the shield of Saul, anointed with oil no more. ²²From the blood of the slain, from the fat of the mighty, the bow of Jonathan did not turn back, nor the sword of Saul return empty. ²³Saul and Jonathan, beloved and lovely! In life and in death they were not divided; they were swifter than eagles, they were stronger than lions. ²⁴O daughters of Israel, weep over Saul, who clothed you with crimson, in luxury, who put ornaments of gold on your apparel. ²⁵How the mighty have fallen in the midst of the battle! Jonathan lies slain upon your high places. ²⁶I am distressed for you, my brother Jonathan; greatly beloved were you to me; your love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women. ²⁷How the mighty have fallen, and the weapons of war perished!

Frank Muto, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

A Heart for the Lord

June 16, 2024 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “A Heart for the Lord” 1 Samuel 15:34-6:13

I’ve presided at more than 120 funerals since coming to Saranac Lake in 2005. That averages out to half-a-dozen or so each year. Some of those services have been for church members or friends of the church. Some have been for community members who have come to see me as their pastor. Some have been for complete strangers. All have felt the need for Christian burial and a celebration of life before the Lord.

In obituaries, eulogies, or the sort of spontaneous sharing that often accompanies the time of death, many things are celebrated about the loved one who has died. We hear stories about athletic achievement, workplace accomplishments, good grades, and advanced degrees. We praise intelligence, ingenuity, and special talents. We are certain to note titles earned, awards and prizes garnered, and times of leadership in the community. We celebrate a host of children and grandchildren, beauty, great smiles, and even good hair. For us, these are the marks of a blessed and well-lived life.

Our reading from First Samuel suggests that God may see things a little differently. It was the earliest days of the Israelite monarchy. The Prophet Samuel had advocated for God to anoint a king to gather together the twelve tribes of Israel and shape them into a powerful nation. God Almighty had resisted at first. After all, wasn’t God alone king over the people (1 Sam. 8:7)? But God relented, and the oil of blessing had been poured out upon Saul, a son of an influential family of the northern tribe of Benjamin. Saul looked the part: handsome, prophetic, a head taller than anyone else. People looked at Saul and said, “That boy! He is one impressive young man!”

But over Saul’s forty-two years of kingship, God ultimately saw things differently. It all came to a crisis over their neighbors the Amalekites. God had instructed Saul to wage holy war, utterly destroying the Amalekites, just as the Amalekites had tried to destroy the Hebrew people during their vulnerable years as wilderness wanderers. Yet, Saul preserved the life of the Amalekite king, saved the choicest livestock and best plunder, and then erected a monument to himself atop Mt. Carmel. When confronted with his pride and disobedience, Saul lied. It was time for a new leader.

The reluctant Samuel was dispatched to the household of Jesse of Bethlehem, who had an abundance of sons. What followed sounds a little like an Ancient Near East beauty contest. A parade of seven eligible sons was brought before the prophet. Eliab, the oldest, was tall and handsome, like Saul. Abindadab came next, perhaps a great huntsman and provider, followed by Shamah, perhaps the smartest man in all of Bethlehem. Each of the seven sons was impressive; each had the prophet reaching for his flask of anointing oil. But God said “No.”

God had different priorities for leadership, qualities not necessarily revealed in external beauty, strength, or intelligence. God saw the heart (lev). In the Hebrew understanding, the heart embodied and directed the whole person. Our soul, mind, body, feelings, will, conscience, and character were all believed to originate in the heart. God wanted a king with a heart for God. Regardless of their accomplishments, those first seven sons didn’t have what it would take.

David was considered so inconsequential that he wasn’t even invited to the party that day. Instead, he was off in the fields, tending his father’s sheep. When David arrived, he must have looked unlikely—just a ruddy shepherd boy, small and insignificant, in a dirty tunic and bare feet. As soon as Samuel laid eyes on David, the Lord spoke, “Get up, Samuel! This is the one. Anoint him.” At last, here was the son who would have a heart for God.

It’s a story that gets us thinking about our own hearts. We no longer attribute to the heart the qualities and abilities that our ancestors in the faith did, but I think we can surmise what God was looking for in David.

When we have a heart for God, we don’t get caught up in the externals. We’re not worried about being the most beautiful or popular. We’re not preoccupied with being the best athlete, the top of the class, or the person who dies with the biggest bank account. We aren’t driven by pride, the compulsion to please others, or an appetite for the limelight.

When we have a heart for God, we listen for God’s wisdom and leading. We take it to the Lord in prayer. We feast upon God’s word. We praise God in worship. We prioritize God in our lives, making the Lord the center of our professional identity, our families, even our civic engagement.

When we have a heart for God, we become obedient, even when the ways of God are at odds with the siren call of the world. It’s an ethical commitment to honesty—no cutting corners. It’s a moral call to integrity in our relationships. It’s the willingness to surrender our purpose to God’s purpose, to know that it isn’t always about us, and we won’t always get what we want. Instead, we choose to love God and love neighbor with all our heart, mind, soul and strength.

When we have a heart for God, we find our pattern, our role model, in Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of David. From the world’s perspective, Jesus didn’t have what it took to be God’s anointed one. He was from a humble community and of questionable birth. He labored long years as a carpenter, not a Torah scholar. He didn’t have a home, a college degree, a big bank account, or a mega-church. He was an itinerant preacher, who identified with the last, the least, the hungry, the vulnerable, the demon-possessed, the child. Yet the very heart of God beat within his chest, calling us to lives of love and humble service.

On February 4, 1968, Martin Luther King preached the message “Drum Major Instinct” from the pulpit of the Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta, GA. Looking at the life of Christ, King concluded that everyone can be great, not through outstanding natural abilities or our impressive accomplishments but rather through our capacity to follow Jesus. King said, “Everybody can be great, because everybody can serve. You don’t have to have a college degree to serve. You don’t have to make your subject and your verb agree to serve. You don’t have to know about Plato and Aristotle to serve. You don’t have to know Einstein’s theory of relativity to serve. You don’t have to know the second theory of thermodynamics in physics to serve. You only need a heart full of grace, a soul generated by love.”

We only need a heart like David’s, a heart like Jesus’, a heart like Dr. King’s: a heart for God.

It’s important to note that having a heart for God doesn’t mean we are perfect, impeccable paragons of virtue who never stray from righteousness. David notoriously abused power and failed as a father. Dr. King was accused of plagiarism and strayed from his marriage. But their hearts for God brought them around to the humility that saw themselves for what they were, sought forgiveness, and did what was needed to begin again. We aren’t perfect, either, but we have the good sense to grab onto God’s good grace and hold tight. Don’t we?

At the conclusion of King’s sermon, given only two months before his assassination in April 1968, Dr. King imagined his funeral and what he hoped people would say about him. He didn’t name his doctoral degree, his pivotal role in the Montgomery bus boycott, his founding of the Student Non-violent Coordinating Committee, his march on Selma, his Poor People’s Campaign, or even his Nobel Peace Prize. On the contrary, King hoped that someone would mention his efforts to serve others, to love people—even when they were hate-filled, to feed hungry people, to minister to fundamental human needs, to visit those in prison, to be alongside Jesus in in love, justice, truth, and commitment to others.

This morning, as the Prophet Samuel pours out the oil of anointing upon a ragamuffin shepherd boy who would one day be Israel’s greatest king, we are invited to imagine what God sees in us. What would we like people to say about us at our funerals? We don’t have to be head and shoulders above the rest. We don’t have to be the oldest son or the brainiest daughter. We don’t need to be a hero on the gridiron or a flash of brilliance on the ice. We don’t need to be homecoming queen or carnival king. All we need is a heart for God.

Resources

Martin Luther King. “Drum Major Instinct” delivered February 4, 1968 at the Ebenezer Baptist Church, Atlanta, GA. Stanford: The Martin Luther King, Jr. Research and Education Institute. Accessed online at “Drum Major Instinct” | The Martin Luther King, Jr. Research and Education Institute (stanford.edu)

Beth E. Elness-Hanson. “Commentary on 1 Samuel 15:34-6:13” in Preaching This Week, June 16, 2024. Accessed online at Commentary on 1 Samuel 15:34—16:13 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Roger Nam. “Commentary on 1 Samuel 15:34-6:13” in Preaching This Week, June 14, 2015. Accessed online at Commentary on 1 Samuel 15:34—16:13 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Klaus-Peter Adam. “Commentary on 1 Samuel 15:34-6:13” in Preaching This Week, June 13, 2021. Accessed online at Commentary on 1 Samuel 15:34—16:13 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Ralph w. Klein. “Commentary on 1 Samuel 15:34-6:13” in Preaching This Week, June 14, 2009. Accessed online atCommentary on 1 Samuel 15:34—16:13 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

1 Samuel 15:34—16:13

³⁴Then Samuel went to Ramah; and Saul went up to his house in Gibeah of Saul. ³⁵Samuel did not see Saul again until the day of his death, but Samuel grieved over Saul. And the Lord was sorry that he had made Saul king over Israel.

16The Lord said to Samuel, “How long will you grieve over Saul? I have rejected him from being king over Israel. Fill your horn with oil and set out; I will send you to Jesse the Bethlehemite, for I have provided for myself a king among his sons.” ²Samuel said, “How can I go? If Saul hears of it, he will kill me.” And the Lord said, “Take a heifer with you, and say, ‘I have come to sacrifice to the Lord.’ ³Invite Jesse to the sacrifice, and I will show you what you shall do; and you shall anoint for me the one whom I name to you.” ⁴Samuel did what the Lord commanded, and came to Bethlehem. The elders of the city came to meet him trembling, and said, “Do you come peaceably?” ⁵He said, “Peaceably; I have come to sacrifice to the Lord; sanctify yourselves and come with me to the sacrifice.” And he sanctified Jesse and his sons and invited them to the sacrifice.

⁶When they came, he looked on Eliab and thought, “Surely the Lord’s anointed is now before the Lord.” ⁷But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him; for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” ⁸Then Jesse called Abinadab, and made him pass before Samuel. He said, “Neither has the Lord chosen this one.” ⁹Then Jesse made Shammah pass by. And he said, “Neither has the Lord chosen this one.” ¹⁰Jesse made seven of his sons pass before Samuel, and Samuel said to Jesse, “The Lord has not chosen any of these.” ¹¹Samuel said to Jesse, “Are all your sons here?” And he said, “There remains yet the youngest, but he is keeping the sheep.” And Samuel said to Jesse, “Send and bring him; for we will not sit down until he comes here.” ¹²He sent and brought him in. Now he was ruddy, and had beautiful eyes, and was handsome. The Lord said, “Rise and anoint him; for this is the one.” ¹³Then Samuel took the horn of oil, and anointed him in the presence of his brothers; and the spirit of the Lord came mightily upon David from that day forward. Samuel then set out and went to Ramah.

Joann White

writer, pastor, spiritual director, and enthusiast of wild places

King David

Parting Words

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Parting Words” 1 Kings 2:1-12

1 Kings 2:1-12

A House Divided

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “A House Divided” 2 Sam. 18:5-9, 15, 31-33

The Reckoning

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Reckoning” 2 Sam. 11:26-12:13a

2 Samuel 11:26—12:13a

The Tangled Web

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Tangled Web” 2 Samuel 11:1-15

2 Samuel 11:1-15

Facing the Giant

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Facing the Giant” 1 Samuel 17

1 Samuel 17:[1a, 4-11, 19-23] 32-49

Dance Like No One Is Watching

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Dance Like No One Is Watching” 2 Sam. 6:1-5, 12b-19

2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19

Shepherd of the People

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Shepherd of the People” 2 Sam. 5:1-5, 9-10

2 Samuel 5:1-5, 9-10

Stronger Than Lions

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Stronger Than Lions” 2 Sam. 1:1, 17-27

2 Samuel 1:1, 17-27

A Heart for the Lord

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “A Heart for the Lord” 1 Samuel 15:34-6:13

1 Samuel 15:34—16:13