The LORD's Anointed

Passage: 2 Samuel 1:17-27

This song of lament seems fitting for a beloved family member or friend. We’re caught off guard, however, by the fact that David sings it for the man who has spent the last several years trying to kill him. David’s behavior toward Saul doesn’t make sense. It hasn’t made sense all along. From the time David has arrived on the scene, Saul’s corruption has been apparent. David has been anointed king elect of the nation of Israel. Saul has been botching the job consistently. David has a strong following, and if he made a bid for the throne, he’d be sure to succeed in taking it by force. On top of all that, Saul has persistently tried to kill David – even when David wasn’t an obvious threat; even when David devoted himself to serving Saul.

David has numerous opportunities both to lead an insurgency to oust Saul and to kill Saul personally. Yet he never takes his shot. David goes out of his way to protect Saul and to honor him, even though the man doesn’t deserve it. When Saul finally dies, David takes revenge on the soldier who claims responsibility. In the aftermath of Saul’s death, when he should be throwing a party, David weeps, and commands his army to mourn. Why?

I believe there are two reasons. The first is that David respects the office of king of Israel. David recognizes that God placed Saul on the throne. David chooses to respect God’s sovereignty in the decision, leaving it to God to decide when to remove his anointed from the throne. David will fight to the death to honor God’s anointed – even if it seems God’s anointed has gone astray. This is the extent to which David is committed to God’s will.

The second reason – the reason David refuses to end Saul’s life and the reason he mourns when Saul is killed – has to do with David’s proximity to the heart of God. Repeatedly we’re told that David is a “man after God’s own heart.” Here, I believe, we see in David such an intimacy with God that David feels God’s own grief over the loss of Saul. God may have dismissed Saul as king of Israel, but God hasn’t dismissed him as beloved son. Perhaps God hopes for Saul’s redemption; we see the same hope in David. God grieves Saul’s hardness of heart and brokenness of spirit; David grieves the same thing. In David’s song of lament we catch a glimpse of God’s own pain over the loss of someone for whom he had high hopes.

Our calling is to be so close to God that we know and honor his will - even when it hurts us. Our desire, if we are the people of God, is to be close enough to God's heart to feel something of what he feels: broken heartedness at the loss of any of his children; joy at the redemption of any sinner.

The First Stone

Passage: John 8:1-11

“She’s breaking the rules!” My kids are 2 and 4, and this is already a steady refrain in our household. They’ve both caught on to the fact that any rule that applies to one should be leveraged against the other. If one is disciplined for breaking a rule, the other must never be allowed to get away with a similar infraction. That wouldn’t be fair.

We learn this lesson young, and we never forget it. If I’m held to a certain standard, I’m going to make sure everyone else is held to that standard, too. Fair is fair. We are quick to cry foul when someone else gets away with a sin we’ve gotten nailed for. We apply this principle to every sphere of life, but nowhere does it become more apparent than in our religious life. Those of us who adhere to the rules of any faith get bent out of shape when the people around us break the rules. Especially when they seem to be getting away with it.

This is nothing new. During Jesus’ ministry on earth, he dealt with a steady stream of people who expected him to serve as arbiter in their complaints against sinners. Rabbi, she’s breaking the rules! John 8 describes such a scenario, and clearly presents Jesus’ position on other people’s sin. Jesus is hanging out in the town square when the religious right, the Pharisees, approach. They’re dragging a scared and disheveled woman by the elbow. “Rabbi,” they say, “this woman’s an adulteress. The law requires death by stoning. What do you say?” They know the right answer. They want to see if Jesus plays by the rules.

Jesus doesn’t even look up from what he’s doing. He says, “Go ahead. Stone her, as the law requires. But the first stone has to be thrown by the one of you who has never violated the law himself.” The men look down at the stones in their hands. They avoid looking at each other. They all had the stones to condemn an obvious sinner. None has the stones to lie about his own standing before God. When Jesus looks up, the only person standing before him is the accused. Jesus feigns surprise. “What, there’s no one to condemn you?” The woman shakes her head. “Well,” says Jesus, “then neither do I.” As the woman turns to go Jesus clears his throat. She turns, and her eyes meet his. He says, “Leave your sin behind. Here’s your shot at a new life. Take it.”

The Pharisees’ motives were all wrong. They wanted to see a sinner get hers. In spite of themselves, however, they did the right thing. They brought the sinner to Jesus. Jesus doesn’t make the world right by condemning sinners. He makes it right by redeeming them. If you’ve got the stones, let him start with you. Instead of being the first to throw, be the first to accept Jesus’ offer: Leave your sin behind. Here’s your shot at a new life. Take it.

So, You Want a King

Passage: 1 Samuel 8

After years of being without leadership and direction, the Israelites have had enough. They approach God’s prophet, Samuel. They say, “Hey, all the other nations have a king. We want one, too.” Samuel sighs. He knew this day was coming, but he hoped it wouldn’t happen in his lifetime. He consults God. God tells him, “Don’t take it so hard, Samuel. They’re not rejecting you. They’re rejecting me. Go ahead. Give them the king they’re asking for. But make sure they know what they’re getting themselves into.”

Samuel goes back to the people. He says, “Fine, you can have your king. But here’s what you can expect from him: he’ll take the best of your sons to be cannon fodder in your wars; he’ll add the best of your daughters to his harem; he’ll take the best of your land and your livestock; he’ll take ten percent of your livelihood to add to his coffers. You will look back and think about how easy you had it when the only one you answered to was God.” The people insist. So Samuel obliges; follows God’s lead; finds and anoints a king.

In short order Samuel’s predictions prove true. With the exception of very few, the kings of Israel use the throne to further their own ends. In no time they mislead God’s people, adopting the practices and the religion of their pagan counterparts. In no time the Israelites, who wanted what the other nations have, look just like any other nation. God gives his people what they’ve asked for. And they discovery that it’s misery.

Life without God is misery. God seems like a harsh ruler, but he’s nothing compared to a king. God’s people constantly look to others to fill the place only God should fill. We expect our human leaders to do for us what only God can. No person can save us. No person can guarantee us food on our tables or roofs over our heads or protection from the world’s evils. No person’s motives can be completely pure. We rail against our leaders for failing to do what only God can. As God’s people we need to stop looking for a king. We've already got one.

The Secret Weapon

Passage: 1 Samuel 4:1-11

You’d think they would know better. If there’s one lesson God has given his people again and again it’s this: don’t substitute me with any object or person. All of God’s instruction hangs on this principle. Yet this is one command that God’s people just can’t keep. At the beginning of 1 Samuel the Israelites are at war. They’re fighting their arch-nemeses, the Philistines. And it’s a losing battle. In indignation the Israelite soldiers say, “Where’s God when we need him? How can we get God’s attention?” They’ve gone to war against pagans enough to know their winning strategy: bring your gods to the battle front. It seems to be working for the Philistines. The Israelites have a religious object of their own, and figure it can’t hurt to use it to their advantage. They send for the ark. Hophni and Phineas, Eli the priest’s corrupt sons, bring the Ark to the Israelite battle camp. The troops go crazy; they rush into battle, convinced that their secret weapon – God – will ensure their victory.

They couldn’t be more wrong. God isn’t with them. In fact, they’ve done the thing that will guarantee that God isn’t with them. They’ve treated the Ark like an idol – a God-substitute. And they’ve believed that by manipulated God’s symbolic throne they can manipulate God. God won’t be manipulated. The Israelite army is decimated, and the Ark captured by their enemies.

What’s the lesson for us? The same old lesson: don’t substitute God with any person or object. Don’t expect religious objects or rites or incantations or prayers to confer God’s blessing on your plans. You can’t make God do what you want. Commit yourself to what God wants. Let his plans become your plans. That’s where the blessing lies.

The LORD Speaks

Passage: 1 Samuel 3

Samuel’s call is one of those stories that often makes its way into Sunday school lessons. There’s something very compelling about the idea of a young boy being wakened in the night by the voice of God. What often gets overlooked in the Sunday school books is the message God gives the boy.

1 Samuel 3 begins with the words, “In those days the word of the LORD was rare…” God’s people have gone a long time without hearing God speak. Even God’s priest has forgotten the sound of God’s voice. God finally breaks the silence, choosing the most unlikely vessel: a child. The message God gives Samuel, however, belies the messenger’s innocence. It’s a message that Samuel cannot begin to comprehend. God says, simply, “I am about to do something in Israel that will send shivers up the spines of all who hear of it. And I am about to punish your master Eli in all the ways I promised.” Eli, who realized that God was trying to talk to Samuel, presses Samuel to tell him what God said. And Samuel, this innocent boy whom he’s taken under his wing, has to deliver the devastating message.

As God’s people we often claim that we want to know his will. We wish God would just talk to us and tell us what he wants for and from us. The story of Samuel’s call cautions us to know what we’re asking when we ask God to speak. God doesn’t always tell his people what they want to hear.