The reading tells a story from the early years of the Kingdom of Israel. Saul is the people's first king, and after seeming like a good choice, he has turned out not so well. So David is chosen by God and anointed to be new king. But Saul is still on the throne, isn't about to give it up, and every now and then tries to have David killed. At one point David goes underground, hiding out in a cave in the neighbouring land of the Philistines (Israel's enemy at that point) and then in a forest just inside Israel’s border with the land of the Philistines. In hiding, he is joined by hundreds of others from "the underside" of Saul's kingdom.
David, for his part, has a number of
opportunities to kill Saul and take the throne, but refuses to raise a hand
against the sitting king. Rather, David
and his followers just go about the work of helping the people of the kingdom
as best they can from where they are.
When I read this story of David, the rightful
and future king hiding in a cave in enemy territory and then living in a forest
on the kingdom’s edge, attracting around him hundreds of others who are
oppressed, in debt or dissatisfied, I think of Robin Hood in Sherwood Forest
hiding from the Sherriff of Nottingham and the cruel King John usurping the
throne of his brother Richard the Lionhearted, and gathering around him a band
of Merry Men similarly dispossessed and creating what justice they can in a hard
and unjust time.
I think of alternative communities and
underground resistance of any time.
I think too of Jesus on the fringe of society
and power in his time, also gathering a motley crew of disciples, united in
their sense of dispossession and loss, united also in their commitment to
seeking and helping to create a new world more holy and humane than the one
that keeps perpetuating itself.
And that makes me think too, of what might
have happened – what might have been asked and answered, each time someone new
came to the cave, came to the edge of the forest, came wanting to join the
community that was forming on the edge of their time.
“What are you looking for” comes a voice from
somewhere up ahead, or maybe off to the side – the voice of someone still
skillfully hidden from plain sight.
“I am looking for comfort,” is maybe the
first response. “I have lost so
much. I see no hope. I don’t know where to turn. And I have heard that there is comfort to be
found here. That here with your leader
there is understanding and healing, encouragement and hope that the world –
that the kingdom of our time and that the life and the system and the powers of
our kingdom cannot provide. I am in need
of comfort.”
After a pause, during which we wonder if
maybe we are now alone – that the one who asked the question has maybe left us,
the voice sounds again. “And is that all
you are looking for?” the voice asks, and this time we think we see the outline
of a human shape in the cluster of trees where the voice seems to be coming
from.
After a moment’s thought, and turning towards
the human shape that we think we see, “No.
Not just comfort. I am looking
for community and companionship as well.
I cannot be the only one feeling this way – so powerless and poor, so
lost and afraid. I would like to be with
others who feel the same way. Have
suffered the same experience. Who know
it and understand it from inside. I
think that would help heal me and give me strength, more than anything.”
Again, a long pause. But this time we are sure that the shape we
think we have seen really is a person, somewhere there just behind those three
trees. We keep our eyes fixed there and
then from that very place the voice comes again. “And is there anything else you are looking
for? Will comfort and companionship –
comfort and community, satisfy you?”
“No,” we say, after another moment’s
hesitation. “I would also like, with the
rest of the people here to help make the world anew. To help it be different than it is and has become. To help it be the place of comfort and
companionship it should be for all. To
make it good, the way it is meant to be in its creation.”
“And how will you do that?” The voice this time is surprisingly quick in
its question. As though to catch out our
real answer before we have time to think too much about it.
And we actually do reply as quickly, saying,
“By starting from here. By letting this
be a place where we work together at comfort, community and the world that’s
meant to be. And then seeing, and being
thankful for wherever the ripples may lead.”
“Welcome.”
A human figure comes out from the tree.
“Come in,” we are told, and the figure before us turns and begins to
lead deeper into the forest, on a little pathway that we hadn’t really noticed
before. And as we follow, we hear the
words floating back to hover over us, “Peace be with you. God’s peace be upon you. God’s peace flow through you to all the
Earth.”
And what if that’s it? What if that is how the kingdom comes? Always comes?
Not in any grand battle. Not in any great revolution. Not in any triumphal entry or even a grand
second coming.
But in an alternative community of comfort
and companionship, committed together to living in the ways of peace, and being
thankful for wherever the ripples may lead.
Is this enough for us? Isn’t this what we are looking for?
Photo by John VanDuzer
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