Scripture: 1 Samuel 16: 1–13
The boy Samuel of last week has become the kingmaker this week.
On a weekend here in the United States when many gathered to make a public witness against monarchy in the United States, there seems to be a resonance that our planned lectionary scripture reading today begins with the end of Saul, the first monarchical leader of the Israelites in the Biblical book of Samuel.
God asks the prophet Samuel to get ready to anoint a new leader, because Saul has acted badly. The story we read today is the narrative of Samuel finding Saul’s replacement as leader — this leader ends up being the smallest, youngest, mildest, meekest great-grandchild of Ruth and Boaz, named David.
I should say that everyone only sees David as the smallest, youngest, mildest, and meekest because that is his outward appearance. Like Cinderella who wasn’t initially invited to try on the shoe, or the boy Arthur who wasn’t invited to try to pull the sword from the stone, David wasn’t even brought before Samuel because he was just a boy who kept sheep.
But everyone will learn that David is powerful in small ways that people don’t appreciate — until they do.
In our public imagination, this boy David is the original underdog. You can tell me if I’m wrong, but I think there’s something in human nature that celebrates when a less powerful individual or group triumphs over a much stronger adversary.
I’m an East Providence Townie through and through, but I can tell you that when I saw the little Westerly High School football team outscore East Providence School back in September by almost fifty points, there was something in me that felt a deep respect.
One of the most known Bible stories in the world today is the story of David and Goliath. This small, young, mild, and meek shepherd boy David chooses to enter into single combat against the behemoth Philistine warrior Goliath. King Saul (who is on his way out) tells David that the boy should put on big bulky armor, as if to say that he needs to act according to a certain set of proscribed rules.
But David has trained in a different school of thought. He has spent years defending his sheep from large animals by perfecting the skill of projecting high-velocity rocks at the heads of wolves and bears, etc.. If we think about it this way, David is powerful in a very small and useful way, and we might even feel bad for Goliath as David approaches him. Goliath, this slow mighty warrior with a big sword and clunky armor really never had a chance against a skilled hig-velocity rock slinger like David.
This is the context of world that God enters to dethrone King Saul and bring his blessing onto a small, young, meek, mild child who is actually more prepared for what is expected of him than anyone really knows. And so God, who understands and engages the world differently from the way we do, asks Samuel to take up his horn of holy oil and anoint the boy David.
The unexpected anointing of David is a model for Jesus, and it’s a model for all of us as well.
Jesus was an unassuming person in his world — a manual laborer, who spent time in study and prayer, and who didn’t participate in the military or power struggles of his time . . . until he did, in an unexpected way. Jesus was a teacher who gathered followers by the promise of being a community of healing and love . . . his strength was not the traditional type of Goliath — it was an inner strength of David, his skill was his spirit; his skill was his ability to work with others; his skill was approaching the world with love and generosity when the world was throwing up obstruction after obstacle to love. His revolutions was a quiet people powered movement that caught the eye of empire and Rome and which led to the powerful needing to remove this itinerant Rabbi who was the center of the people’s hope.
We live in a time that feels like obstructions and obstacles to love are prevalent . . . and we’re looking and hoping for the center of our hope. The struggle to put ends together is real. The societal social net that we’ve built in order to care for our collective health, collective housing, collective nutrition, collective security, collective education, collective hope . . . it’s frayed and fraying.
One storyline in the Bible says that King Saul came to power after the people of the idealistic tribes of Israel cried out for a King to rule over them. They thought that a monarch was a status symbol, and a sign of their complexity and readiness to transition from a nomadic to an established people. The Israelites in their request for a King, changed the fundamental nature of their society, and lost the people-centered and covenantal-centered power of their identity.
Becoming a king later changed the young, small, mild, and meek David too. The nimble liberator became encumbered with power, and failed to hold himself to the high bar that God had set for him. And God had to call another prophet, Nathan, to tell David that he had lost his way and God would not abide with him any longer.
In the United States, each period that we call a time of advancement has also come with both a change of society and a change of spirit.
In our revolutionary period it was a change of spirit called a Great Awakening, when religious fervor in the colonies showed the people that a change of religion was possible, and that a change in government was probably possible as well. The struggle was that the destructive practice of engaging in human slavery was holding flourishing back. In the Industrial period of the nineteenth, a second Great Awakening came when a spiritual revolution swept the young nation, and helped lay a groundwork for a liberatory movement that ended in a civil war.
We are in a time of great change, seeking a sign for a spiritual movement of love, like the one initiated by Jesus thousands of years ago, to sweep through our world. Perhaps it needs to be initiated by meek and mild folk like us.
I feel like every week the question of whether I and we are up to the challenge of community ministry comes to the forefront, and each week I and we get to decide and choose yes again, and renew our commitments with the help of God to take part in this care-of-souls business. Like Samuel and David, to clean up the messes made by Kings. The care of souls requires a rock-slinging nimbleness, and we’re trying to get better at it every week . . . we care for others because we want others to help us with the care for the soul of others, and together we can be part of the ever-growing revolution of the soul.
Sometimes the widespread care of souls is called an awakening.
Sometimes it’s called a Jesus movement.
Sometimes it’s called the right thing to do.
And sometimes it’s the only thing left to do. And with the help of God who calls prophets to anoint unexpected leadership, I hope we will be a part of it. Amen.