“King and Un-King” – Sermon on July 29, 2012
Scripture Lessons July 29, 2012
Hebrew Scripture: 2 Samuel 11: 1-15
When that time of year came around again, the anniversary of the Ammonite aggression, David dispatched Joab and his fighting men of Israel in full force to destroy the Ammonites for good. They laid siege to Rabbah, but David stayed in Jerusalem.
One late afternoon, David got up from taking his nap and was strolling on the roof of the palace. From his vantage point on the roof he saw a woman bathing. The woman was stunningly beautiful. David sent to ask about her, and was told, “Isn’t this Bathsheba, daughter of Eliam and wife of Uriah the Hittite?” David sent his agents to get her. After she arrived, he went to bed with her. (This occurred during the time of “purification” following her period.) Then she returned home. Before long she realized she was pregnant. Later she sent word to David: “I’m pregnant.”
David then got in touch with Joab: “Send Uriah the Hittite to me.” Joab sent him. When he arrived, David asked him for news from the front—how things were going with Joab and the troops and with the fighting. Then he said to Uriah, “Go home. Have a refreshing bath and a good night’s rest.”
After Uriah left the palace, an informant of the king was sent after him. But Uriah didn’t go home. He slept that night at the palace entrance, along with the king’s servants. David was told that Uriah had not gone home. He asked Uriah, “Didn’t you just come off a hard trip? So why didn’t you go home?”
Uriah replied to David, “The Chest is out there with the fighting men of Israel and Judah—in tents. My master Joab and his servants are roughing it out in the fields. So, how can I go home and eat and drink and enjoy my wife? On your life, I’ll not do it!”
“All right,” said David, “have it your way. Stay for the day and I’ll send you back tomorrow.” So Uriah stayed in Jerusalem the rest of the day.
The next day David invited him to eat and drink with him, and David got him drunk. But in the evening Uriah again went out and slept with his master’s servants. He didn’t go home. In the morning David wrote a letter to Joab and sent it with Uriah. In the letter he wrote, “Put Uriah in the front lines where the fighting is the fiercest. Then pull back and leave him exposed so that he’s sure to be killed.”
Gospel: John 6:1-21
Jesus went to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, also called the Sea of Tiberias. 2A large crowd kept following him, because they saw the signs that he was doing for the sick. 3Jesus went up the mountain and sat down there with his disciples. 4Now the Passover, the festival of the Jews, was near. 5When he looked up and saw a large crowd coming toward him, Jesus said to Philip, “Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?” 6He said this to test him, for he himself knew what he was going to do. 7Philip answered him, “Six months’ wages would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little.”8One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said to him, 9“There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among so many people?” 10Jesus said, “Make the people sit down.” Now there was a great deal of grass in the place; so they sat down, about five thousand in all. 11Then Jesus took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to those who were seated; so also the fish, as much as they wanted. 12When they were satisfied, he told his disciples, “Gather up the fragments left over, so that nothing may be lost.” 13So they gathered them up, and from the fragments of the five barley loaves, left by those who had eaten, they filled twelve baskets. 14When the people saw the sign that he had done, they began to say, “This is indeed the prophet who is to come into the world.”
15When Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself. 16When evening came, his disciples went down to the sea, 17got into a boat, and started across the sea to Capernaum. It was now dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them. 18The sea became rough because a strong wind was blowing. 19When they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus walking on the sea and coming near the boat, and they were terrified. 20But he said to them, “It is I; do not be afraid.” 21Then they wanted to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat reached the land toward which they were going.
Sermon: King and Un-King by Rev. Doreen Oughton
So today we have a story of a king, and a story of the Un-king. We hear a chapter in the story of David, God’s chosen one, who was plucked from a field tending sheep to be, above his seven older brothers, anointed for kingship by the prophet Samuel. David has fought and won many battles, eluded King Saul’s assassins, taken many wives and concubines, and, at the age of 30, began his 40-year-reign of king of Israel. His kingdom has faced on-going threats and attacks from neighboring nations. David no longer goes out to battle himself, but sends the troops. He is walking around the roof of his palace one day, and happens to see a beautiful woman taking a ritual bath. Instead of leaving her some privacy, leaving her alone, he continues to watch and then sends a servant to fetch her for him, even after learning she is the wife of one of his soldiers. It’s hard to imagine there was any meaningful consent on the part of Bathsheba. Her honor doesn’t matter to David, her well-being doesn’t matter to David, her husband’s honor doesn’t mean anything to David. He wants her, and so he takes her, just for a little while, though, then sends her back home. We can imagine her fear when she finds she is pregnant. Her husband has been away in battle for months. Everyone will know about her adultery. Could she be stoned? Certainly she would be put out of Uriah’s house. So she turns for help to the man responsible, her King.
I don’t know why David doesn’t just take her for his wife right then. He had the power to do so. She could have moved into the palace and left word for Uriah when he returned. She would have been protected from all those consequences by the power of the King. But for whatever reason, David doesn’t do that. He tries to hide the problem. He brings Uriah back from the battle fields hoping he’ll lay with his wife and then assume the child that comes is his own, a little premature maybe, but believable. Uriah doesn’t follow David’s plan, though. His commitment and passion for his mission won’t allow him to relax and indulge himself with time at home with his wife. Again David could have let him go, taken Bathsheba into the palace and let Uriah deal with the heartache and anger he might experience when he finds out. But instead he sends Uriah back to the battlefield with instructions for his commander to set him up to be killed. How awful. Why would David do such a thing? I can’t help but think it was about protecting his reputation and image. He knew what he did with Bathsheba was wrong, even scandalous. Maybe he couldn’t reconcile his own actions and his guilt with the truth that God has chosen him, that he was special. If he could get Uriah killed, he might be seen not as an adulterer who stole his soldier’s wife and dishonored her and himself, but as a hero, taking a war widow into his home, under his care, to be his wife. Isn’t that a prettier picture?
On the one hand, it seems David did still have a conscience. He knew what he did was wrong, where some who believe themselves to be chosen, to be special, believe that everything they do is right, that everything they take is deserved, that everything they want is destined to be theirs. But on the other hand, his wish to hide his guilt, to pretty up his actions, led him to murder. Now David has killed many, many people already, some in battle, some with the belief that he is honoring or avenging God with the deed. But with this one, God is greatly displeased. We don’t hear it in this passage, but God promises David that what he did to Uriah in secret, God would do to David in the open – cause trouble in his house in different forms. God says to David, “You have despised me, you have scorned me.” And God’s punishment of David is pretty despicable, the death of another innocent, the child of David and Bathsheba.
How awful, how awful, is this exploitation by the powerful. We’ve all heard about how power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Sometimes I read these stories in the Hebrew bible and I see that God is the one with absolute power, and that God’s power in these stories is often abusive and destructive. It is the depiction of God in these stories that convinces me that scripture was indeed written by humans and contains many human sins, not least among them the glorification of violence and the exploitation and abuse of the powerless. I can’t stand it. It is so clearly wrong, so clearly against what I understand as God’s nature – merciful, just, and loving. Such abuse has been in my face this week, with the sanctions against Penn State reminding us of the horrific abuse and exploitation of 48 boys by assistant coach Jerry Sandusky. A man whose role was to use his power to teach young men about football and sportsmanship, to encourage young men to stretch themselves, to live into their potential, instead violated children. He tried to pretty up what he was doing – setting up a camp for underprivileged youngsters. And maybe he even had some motivation to do some good. But he took what he wanted, he hurt the most vulnerable people. And people around him knew, they saw, maybe not everything, but enough to know something was very, very wrong. But they wanted to protect their little kingdom at any cost, and so they covered it up. They let those boys go into battle, and drew back from them and let their spirits be killed.
There have been other killings in the news these past few weeks. James Holmes, a 24-yr-old graduate student took an assault rifle and other guns into a movie theater and opened fire, killing twelve and injuring 58. Such random violence is devastating, frightening. It has been called evil, and I cannot disagree. But to me, it does not approach the systemic evil of exploitation of power, of people betraying sacred trusts, of people killing or letting others be killed or harmed to protect a reputation, an institution, an image.
In tremendous contrast, we have a story about Jesus. The past several weeks we’ve heard passages from the Gospel of Mark, but today starts a run from the Gospel of John. His writing has a very different feel from that of the other three, aka the Synoptic Gospels. John’s writing is more mystical, more about Jesus as the divine son of God. John tells some of the miracle stories that are in the other gospels, and adds some others, and refers to them as signs, signs of who Jesus is. He puts together the sign of feeding 5000 with the sign of Jesus walking on water in this story. There is that quirky bit at the end about how the disciples wanted to take him into the boat, but then instantly they all reached the land to which they were going. But what caught my attention most in this passage, especially in light of the reading from the Hebrew scripture, was verse 15 – “When Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself.” The crowds had heard him preach, seen him heal, seen water turned into wine. They recognized the signs and knew he was to be their leader. But Jesus ran away.
Jesus didn’t want the power. Was it because he was afraid that he too could be corrupted by it? Perhaps, perhaps. But I think it has more to do with his mission. I think he came to teach us to understand power in a different way. Like David, Jesus knows that he has been chosen, that he is special. Like David, Jesus knows that he has been anointed to save the people of Israel. But Jesus understands saving in a way that David never did. He understands that they need to be saved not from invading nations, but from the exploitation of power and from a life cut off from God, from the muck and mire, the confusion and shoddiness of trying to find goodness and truth and beauty apart from God. Here Jesus has the power to take what he wants, to get people to serve him, to be a really wonderful leader. But he doesn’t do it.
I have a friend who, on FB, posts a lot of things titled “hippie peace freak.” I believe she considers herself one of them. I remember several years ago she was distraught because the company she worked for was involved in developing weapons of war. She considered quitting because she was anti-war, but decided to stay on to try to improve things “from the inside.” It didn’t last long and she ultimately did leave the job to stay true to her values. I think Jesus’ refusal to be a king came from a similar belief that some work can’t be done from the inside. The whole system has to be rejected, or you just become enveloped in it. If Jesus was against the type of power that ruled by separating itself from common folk, by being served by people instead of being of service to them, if he was against any notion that some people are better than or more worthy of honor and respect than others, then how could he be king? He couldn’t, he wouldn’t.
And I think that is important to remember when we sings our songs about crowning him Lord of All. We must remember that his Lordship is not like any lordship we have operating in this world. I understand our language is limited in some ways. We can’t possibly find exactly the right words to express what we understand about God and Jesus, let alone express the mysteries we can’t understand. We use the models around us to sing and pray and talk about what they are “like.” God is loving and merciful like a mother or father. God is discerning like a judge. Jesus is a guide and protector like a shepherd, Jesus cares for us and leads us and if we but obey and follow, all will be well. Jesus is like a king. But Jesus is not a king. His power is of a different nature. His power empowers, his power inspires, his power reveals truth and light and beauty. It doesn’t take what it wants, it gives what we need. It doesn’t try to protect itself, it makes itself vulnerable. It doesn’t cover up, it opens up. It doesn’t destroy, it brings life. Now shall we try to crown him, or shall we try to immerse ourselves in that kind of power?
