David, Gun for Hire (A Blog Exclusive)

In the next few weeks, there will be a few Blog Exclusive pieces in our Early Jewish Monarchy series, which will tell parts of the story that we won't have time to focus on during Sunday worship. While the end of 1 Samuel tells the repetitive story of Saul's descent into overwhelming paranoia, it also tells how David cagily survives Saul's death-wish against him, through ever-more unbelievable means. While parts of 1 Samuel 21-30 are included what follows, 1 Samuel 27-30 is the focus.

As Saul becomes more persistent in his desire to have David killed, and even starts dispatching the Israelite army hither and yon for that expressed purpose, David goes to greater lengths to survive, fleeing from place to place, sometimes into lands beyond Israelite control. And Saul becomes ever more determined to track David down, to the extent that he even lashes out at David's perceived allies. In one particularly gruesome tale, Saul orders the deaths of all the priests of Nob, who are known to have hosted David for a time.

And Saul's own family is not spared. We learn that Michal, David's wife and the king's daughter, is given to another husband by her father -- obviously as a punishment against David. Jonathan appears very little in the story, which suggests that Saul is keeping his son on a very tight leash. It is fairly certain that Jonathan is not allowed to lead, or even accompany, the expeditions mounted to track down the fugitive David, even though we know that Jonathan himself was an honored general who had success in battling the Philistines.

Throughout this ordeal, David keeps one step ahead of Saul and his warriors and performs a delicate balancing act. He refuses to act out against Saul or any part of his army. Twice, quite dramatically, David will have the opportunity to kill Saul and he refuses to lay a hand on the king. This is again part of David's loyalty to the kingdom, even though the power of Israel has turned against him. As he becomes more of a fugitive, however, David is forced to ally with Israel's enemies, the Philistines.

This is the final resort of David. Saul's army has followed David into the wildernesses, so that these lands cannot provide a safe refuge. David evidently has approached certain wealthy Israelites, hoping that they might use their power to shelter him and his small army, but he is rejected. One story, an interaction between David and a wealthy Calebite named Nabal, dramatizes this rejection. Sensing the threat that David poses, Nabal rebuffs David's requests for assistance; the denial is so harsh that Nabal's wife Abigail intercedes with a peace offering, fearing that David and his men will take retribution on the household. Ironically, when Nabal learns of his wife's actions, he suffers a heart attack and dies. And David, man of honor and hopeless romantic that he is, marries the widow Abigail. (As we will see, David seems to have an eye for other men's wives.)

Seeing no other choice, David flees the land of Israel, settling near the city of Gath, hometown of Goliath and prominent Philistine city. When David first tried to approach the King of Gath, King Achish, he evidently got cold feet and pretended to have lost his mind while he was in Gath. The second time, David has no such qualms. He makes his presence known to King Achish and demands to live autonomously; the king grants his request and gives David control of the city of Ziklag (formerly an Israelite city that had been captured by the Philistines).

David's reputation as a great military leader is obvious in this negotiation. The Philistines are under no obligation to help David, who has led armies successfully against them time and again. In fact, one would expect them to try to capture and punish David. Evidently, David's personal army is powerful enough to prevent this and to demand that the Philistine king treat David respectfully. This implies that David had sufficient military power to take on Saul directly if he had desired; David refuses to act militarily against either the Israelite king or any other Israelites. This self-imposed restraint, along with the undeniable cunning that preserves David, are David's most notable traits in this part of the story. [Preachers and Biblical commentators usually take this to stress that David is showing great faith in God's promise to him given during his anointing by Samuel; while David is faithful, I think his actions show his own determination to prevent any claim that he is unfit for the Israelite throne. Lacking any contrary data (prophecies telling David which course he should take), it seems to me that David's faith would have justified his attacking Saul directly and taking the Israelite throne by force. But I digress.]

David has no reticence about attacking non-Israelites, and he uses Ziklag as a bandit refuge from which to launch raids against unsuspecting non-Israelite and non-Philistine tribes. Ruthlessly, David and his men attack, take everything that isn't nailed down, and kill everyone so there are no witnesses to reveal his identity. Ostensibly, David does this so that he can lie about his actions to both King Achish and, in the future, the Israelites. Even though he continues to attack only the enemies of Israel, David reports to the Philistine king that he is attacking Israelite settlements.

David is able to maintain this double-life until King Achish decides to launch another Philistine campaign against the Israelites and he demands Davids participation as a loyal Philistine subject. David has no choice but to accept the king's call; the king gives David and his men the prominent responsibility of being the king's bodyguard during the battle. This would remove David's men from the front lines, minimizing the chance for actual contact with the Israelites during the battle.

But of course, there is still the chance that David and his men would be forced to actually fight the Israelites. Unbelievably, David's overwhelming good luck holds and eliminates even this chance. Other Philistines learn of David's presence in the camp, and they demand that he be sent home as untrustworthy in the upcoming battle. Though King Achish vouches for David's loyalty three times -- the last swearing it by God, even -- David and his men are released from obligation and sent home.

The story would seem to have a happy ending, except that David finds that the Amalekites have raided Ziklag in his absence, captured much loot, and taken his wives and children prisoner. This leads to an attack instead by David and his grumbling men on the Amalekites. It is likely no coincidence that David must again face the group that Saul failed to annihilate, which led to him losing God's favor. David is successful and defeats the Amalekites.

In the aftermath of this victory, David makes overtures to attempt to reenter the land of Israel. He takes all that he captures from the Amalekites and sends it to the cities in the Southwestern part of the Israelite kingdom. This part of David's plan is nullified by a dramatic change brought on in the battle between the Israelites and the Philistines -- Saul and his sons are killed, which opens the way for David to claim the throne.

This then is the man after God's own heart. In his steadfast faith that he is called to be king, David preserves his claim to the throne. He becomes a fugitive to escape the king's wrath. He becomes a thief and an ancient bandit to support himself and his army; he lies over and over to his patron, King Achish the Philistine. He attempts to bribe his way back into the good graces of the Israelites. And, nostalgically, he becomes the symbol of all that once was good and right and hopeful in the land of Israel.

Coming Up Sunday, July 20

After the great victory of David over Goliath, and thus the Israelites over the Philistines, the history of 1 Samuel focuses on Saul's family. David, we are told, leaves his father Jesse's household and joins King Saul's household, eventually becoming his son-in-law.

The reasons for this, and the timeline, are a little unclear. 1 Samuel offers several possibilities: David, the poet and singer, was the only person who could calm the king; David, the slayer of Goliath, was rewarded by being invited to join the king's family (and eventually marry one of his daughters); David, the successful general, appeared to be a threat to Saul's authority, and he wanted to keep a close eye on this potential challenger to the throne (i.e. "keep your friends close and keep your enemies closer"). Perhaps David was already part of the royal household before he faced Goliath; perhaps only afterward.

In any event, David becomes a recognizable figure alongside Saul's biological children, especially his son Jonathan and his daughter Michel (who becomes David's wife). Like many ancient kings, Saul sees his children not only as the future -- that is, as people who can succeed him after he dies -- but as a present threat -- that is, as people who might try to hasten either the king's death or defeat. So we get several stories of family politics, which suggest some pretty dramatic love/hate relationships between those involved.

This common motif of history (the most notable Biblical practitioner of this was King Herod aka "Herod the Great" who was likely King of Judea when Jesus was born, and who likely killed several of his children to prevent them from usurping the throne) is also a common theme of tragedy, perhaps most notably of Shakespeare's King Lear, where all the king's children are girls which both explains Lear's desire to control them and his subsequent descent into madness.

Consider this brief exchange between Goneril and Regan after the King has disowned their sister Cordelia (from Act I, Scene 1):

GONERIL:

Sister, it is not little I have to say of what most nearly appertains to us both. I think our father will hence tonight.

REGAN:

That's most certain, and with you. Next month with us.

GONERIL:

You see how full of changes his age is. The observation we have made of it hath been but little. He always loved our sister most, and with what poor judgement he hath now cast her off appears too grossly.

REGAN:

'Tis the infirmity of his age; yet he hath ever but slenderly known himself.

GONERIL:

The best and soundest of his time hath been but rash; then must we look from his age to receive not alone the imperfections of long-engrafted condition, but therewithal the unruly waywardness that infirm and choleric years bring them.

REGAN:

Such unconstant starts are we like to have from him as this of Kent's banishment.

GONERIL:

There is further compliment of leave-taking between France and him. Pray you, let us sit together. If our father carry authority with such disposition as he bears, this last surrender of his will but offend us.

So it is in the house of Saul. Saul is beginning to act strangely and erratically, post David and Goliath. His mood swings are greater; his impulses are less controlled and less rational. The children have to cope with this. They love their father; moreover they owe obedience to him. But Saul makes this difficult.

So the kids talk about it behind the king's back. They plan what to do whenever Saul goes off the deep end. Michel marries David, and grows to love him. Jonathan is enthralled with David and develops a deep friendship with him -- perhaps even more than that, politically speaking, an alliance. They protect the king and each other. Eventually one of them, David, is disowned and forced to leave Saul's household.

And so begins the downfall of the House of Saul.

This is some of what we'll consider Sunday as we continue our study of the early Jewish Monarchy.

Coming Up Sunday, July 13

This week we will turn our attention to the most famous military engagement of the ancient Israelite kingdom: David and Goliath, the young Hebrew boy going toe-to-toe with the giant Philistine warrior.

This story is familiar to many people, with the giant taunting the young boy who then hurls a stone from a slingshot that catches Goliath right between the eyes. Over the years, it has been most often told as an illustration of appropriate faith. With God, all things are possible. So in the face of insurmountable odds, and defying all logic, the young boy, who wears no armor and carries no sword or shield, but confident in his trust in God's power, faces down the great Philistine champion, who lets down his guard and gets defeated.

To some extent there's a lot of wisdom in this interpretation. We should always be aware that God acts in strange ways sometimes, choosing unlikely representatives and unlikely places and times. If we have faith in God, we should be eager to see God's hand in our lives, and we should pay special attention to the unconventional ways God may reach out to us.

But sometimes this reading of the story can get us into problems, when we fail to see God's hand in the world -- or specifically, when we fail to see God's hand in our lives when we face challenges. And then we sometimes chastise ourselves, and think that we must have no faith because God does not act for us.

That could be true, but I think that's a rather limited understanding of faith. In fact, there's a deeper faith at work in this story, one man's great faith, that I think is the more important lesson of this story. This man's faith, which represents an entire nation's faith, suggests important lessons not only for our personal faith, but for our shared faith.

Coming Up Sunday, June 29

We will resume our study of the beginnings of the Jewish monarchy, this time focusing on 1 Samuel 13. In this story, Saul prepares for another battle with the Philistines, and he awaits Samuel, the priest, to perform a sacrifice. When Samuel does not arrive in a specified time, Saul performs the sacrifice himself, seeking God's assistance and favor during the battle.

Shortly thereafter, Samuel arrives and chastises Saul for his action. Further, he suggests that God is so displeased with Saul that He has chosen another to replace Saul (and his household) as the next king of Israel.

Clearly Saul had overstepped the boundary between politics and religion. What may be less clear to our eyes -- given that the separation of church and state has been pretty well acculturated in us -- is that this was a notable shift in the history of Israel. Previous leaders, especially great ones, had been both political and religious leaders: men like Abraham, Jacob, Moses, and Joshua, and even tribal leaders like Gideon saw no great distinction between those roles, even as the priesthood was developing under the tribe of Levi.

Thus was birthed a division of labor that has greatly influenced modern society. The cost was fairly small -- one king overstepped his bounds and eventually lost his crown because he didn't realize that times were changing. But it also dramatically shaped the expectations of the future kings of Israel, especially David. And these expectations reverberate through the centuries.

Religion Surveys in the News

Two reputable polls related to religion in the United States have been released in the past week, one by Gallup and one by the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life. Perhaps you heard mention of them, either on the evening news or elsewhere. For example, here's a little coverage in The Gray Lady by the Times current religion reporter Neela Banerjee.

The Gallup poll is an annual survey measuring American confidence in various institutions. Per usual, Congress enjoys the least confidence among the main institutions -- only 12% of respondents expressed "a great deal" or "quite a lot" of confidence. And the military enjoys the most confidence -- 71% of responses are significantly confident.

Of interest to me was the confidence in "The Church or organized religion": 26% expressed "a great deal" of confidence and 22% expressed "quite a lot" of confidence in organized religion. According to Gallup's reporting (see their release here) confidence in religion has dropped by roughly 25% in 25 years. Also -- and this is more significant -- the church is no longer anywhere close to being the top rated institution in the poll, as it was from 1973 to 1985. It places fourth this year, behind the military, small business, and the police.

Certainly, there have been some significant challenges to our confidence in organized religion in the past quarter century -- prominent religious figures have been embroiled in criminal and ethical scandals; sexual abuse has been a prominent issue in the Roman Catholic Church; some religious leaders are frequently seen or heard on the media saying offensive things. When these things happen -- either on a large or a small scale -- all Christians pay a price. Our community is seen more cynically, especially by outsiders, who anticipate that we may make terrible headlines in the newspaper one day.

This is the challenge for all congregations and for the church as a whole. 48% of Americans have significant confidence in organized religion; 52% do not have confidence. Put bluntly, more than half of Americans have doubts about us -- yes, even about our specific congregation. They don't know whether they can trust us or not. They don't know if they can trust the pastor or not. They don't know if they can trust the members or not. This is a hard reality for every religious congregation in the United States. To be sure, many of these doubters only have vague doubts about churches, or doubts about specific religious groups. But the survey also reveals that roughly 20% of respondents had strong mistrust of organized religion -- 1 of every 5 people.

The Gallup numbers are probably pretty simple, though, especially when viewed in conjunction with the other survey released this week, part two of the Pew Forum's extensive U.S. Religious Landscape Survey. This survey, at least the two parts released thus far (with one more to come later this year, I believe), demonstrates the common personal religious belief and practice in the United States. While people distrust the organized church, they still overwhelmingly believe in God.

The most surprising result in the survey (at least the one that has grabbed most of the attention, and the one I'm going to comment on given that I haven't had the time to pore over this report) is that Americans are surprisingly open-minded toward various different religious beliefs. At the very least, most Americans (70%) believe that many different religions (or denominations) can lead to eternal life, and 68% believe that "there is more than one true way to interpret the teachings of my religion." In fact, the percentages on these issues are pretty surprising across denominational/religious groupings. With the exception of Jehovah's Witnesses, who have a low percentage of agreement with those statements, and Mormons (around 40% agree on those issues), strong majorities of other groups demonstrate this religious tolerance/open-mindedness.

To see the Pew report for yourself, click here (or to go to a page with several graphic resources about the report, click here).

The significance of polls such as these for the church is important. If we are truly called to represent our faith, these polls remind us to ask ourselves what we actually think about our faith practices and beliefs -- and to be honest with ourselves about our answers, including our doubts, our frustrations and disappointments, and our questions. More than this, though, it reminds us that our neighborhoods are changing before our eyes -- if we don't pay attention to what we might learn from these surveys (such as the high level of distrust in organized churches), we aren't going to understand the spiritual needs and questions of our neighbors. And Jesus calls us to try to understand those needs and questions and to reach out to others in his name.

Reflections on Worship, June 22

I really enjoyed worship on Sunday, mostly because our young people shared with us. Maybe it's my experience as a youth minister, but I just love the experience of worshiping -- really worshiping -- with young people. Certainly it is a challenge to try to shape a service that is (hopefully) meaningful for wide age groups.

But I don't think it's the challenge that I really love; I just love to watch our young people experience God right in front of our eyes. In fact, I get excited by the prospect; I probably work a little harder even. And I'm not alone: I remember watching Billy Graham give a sermon directed at teenagers once; he had a different energy level. And others over the years have suggested something similar of Pope John Paul II, especially at the World Youth events he frequently attended.

Don't get me wrong -- I enjoy working with people of all ages. But there's something special about working with young people (roughly anyone under the age of 25), especially in the church. And I thought we did well at that on Sunday. Listening to the sermon, I was surprised by how long it was; then again, I've never led a service in which bake time was a significant issue. I hope that the lesson of the brownies was clear for everybody; for the possible cynics, I was not attempting to bribe our young ones with chocolate (there will be other more appropriate times for that). The cooking idea came to me like most of my sermon ideas, after some reading and prayer, after some brain-storming, and while I was in the shower.

In fact, I kind of liked the cooking angle. I think we'll try it again if an opportunity arises -- perhaps fresh bread on World Communion Sunday. Too often when Protestants look down their noses at Orthodox Christians, with all their smelly incense, we forget that we learn and experience things by smell, including God sometimes.

And I enjoyed the music of the service. I received several positive comments about the little Elvis riff on "How Great Thou Art"; I do hope nobody was terribly offended by it. It just felt right to me at that moment -- perhaps I was wrong, but I don't think so. Occasionally I call an audible -- or in more religious language, I let the Holy Spirit move me. And I enjoyed the duet Leigh Anne and I sang -- I hope many others did too; I'd never sung it before, but I've wanted to for several years. Getting to work with Leigh Anne and Brooks made it worth the wait though; and then some, probably.

As the sermon should have made clear on Sunday, the music that fills our sanctuary on Sunday mornings, from the organ Prelude to the choir's anthem to the hymns to vocal duets to anything else we can imagine is a miracle. Together we share the gifts that God has blessed us with (all of us, each in our special way), and it is beautiful, and often moving. A glimpse of the hand of God moving through our midst -- and moving us in the process -- each time we meet.

Reflections on Worship, June 15

Worship on Sunday was incredibly powerful, filled with sincere emotion. Even now, a few days later, I still find that I am moved when I think about it. And, to be honest, I'm having trouble finding the words to describe it (which is probably the reason why I've been delaying this post, of course using busyness as an excuse).

What can I say about our celebration of our graduates? As I mentioned Sunday, we are a church family, and we have a shared pride in the achievements of our young people. It is a great privilege for a congregation our size to be able to celebrate six graduations in one year (that's quite a few). Even more, it is a reminder of the great transition that many of our members are undergoing, both our young people, as they move forward in their education and careers, and their families, as they get used to the idea of their children moving out or starting their careers.

And what can I say about the sermon given by Brooks, Leigh Anne, and Jenny? First, I won't be shy about calling it a sermon, even if they cringe at the term, because that's what it was -- an application of God's teaching to our lives. I thought that Brooks' personal testimony was powerful and moving, and I also thought that Leigh Anne's and Jenny's roleplaying was accurate and effective in highlighting some key ways that faith develops (or is hindered) in our college experience.

And I thought, especially, that Brooks' observation/recognition that we will sometimes be called upon to share our faith, by someone desperately in need, is an appropriate lesson for Christians of all ages. Sometimes people will seek out the pastor or an elder with their questions in times of anxiety and need; sometimes, they will seek out the closest person to them, which might be you. And you better be able to say something honest about your faith -- if not, they'll probably back away thinking that this Christianity stuff is just a load of nonsense. That doesn't mean you have to have all the answers, or even the perfect answer -- you just need to be willing to listen, to love and care for that person at that moment, and to be open and honest about your own relationship with God.

Of course, sometimes you will have the answer, even if you don't know it or you don't quite trust yourself. This is why it is important for us to nurture everybody in our congregation and to give several people opportunities to share their faith with us during worship. I believe I am gifted in leading worship, teaching, and preaching, and I am thrilled to be able to share those gifts. But I fervently believe -- no, I don't just believe, I KNOW -- that there are others in our midst who have those gifts. We need to teach each other and learn from each other, which is why I hope to slowly increase the number of leaders participating in our worship. God has touched all of us, and continues to work in our lives; and we all react to God in different ways. And we can benefit in our faith from hearing first person accounts of God's love, and God's faith, and God's action in our lives. Whether he believes it or not, Brooks has a standing invitation to preach at Central Christian if he's moved; and I think he will do that sometime in the coming months. But more than that, whether you believe it or not, you have a standing invitation too: to preach, to meditate, to testify, to teach, to pray.

And when we share together, when we learn together, we will be moved. That's what happened on Sunday, I think. After we had people come forward to take the next step in their faith journeys, to publicly join our congregation. As we know, this family has long been active in our congregation, participating and serving in numerous ways; this was just the next step. But we know it was a big step, and we celebrated. And we cried together, tears of joy and recognition, to see again the hand of God at work in our midst, to see again that our faith matters -- it matters to us and to others. Alberta, Zach, Shawn, and Shannon were a testimony of that on Sunday.

Several people have talked to me since the service to tell me how moved they were, and to tell me that I had done a good job. But practically speaking, I did not do much on Sunday, which I suppose is a reminder of other things for us. If we have a good service, then we've done a good job; if we have a good service, then God has been present and praised. And we definitely had a good service on Sunday.