Shenanigans in Bethlehem (or, getting to the heart of the problem) -- June 13, 2021

We came to worship this week with three big things on our minds. 

One is the number of families in our city living in poverty.  June is Case for Kids month at Fifty, where we reach out to children, young people and families who live in poverty in Hamilton through support of Wesley Urban Ministries and all their programs of support and help – everything from support for young moms, early childhood centres, and help with food and housing and education.  The link is https://www.canadahelps.org/en/charities/wesley-urban-ministries-inc/p2p/caseforkids2021/team/team-fifty/

A second, still being absorbed in our national psyche, is the 215 First Nations’ children who were buried in unmarked graves at the Kamloops Indian Residential School.

A third, still fresh and raw, is the murder of a Muslim family in London by a man who ran them over with his pick-up truck as they were out for a walk. 

These last two are stories of terrible tragedy suffered by people because they are not regarded as equal members among us.  Not seen, not welcomed and not treated as beloved brothers and sisters in the family of God that we are.  Rather, mistreated, targeted, and made to suffer because they are different.  But different from whom, and from what?

Reading: 1 Samuel 15:34 – 16:13 

This reading tells part of the story of how Israel became a kingdom, and how difficult a time it was for everyone.

When the people were first led into the promised land, God established a house of priests to rule over them and govern all their affairs.  The priests stood between God and the people, and helped the people know the right things to do.  But over time, as happens, the priests grew self-centred and corrupt, and the people suffered.

The people didn’t want the priests to be ruling them anymore.  They asked God to give them a king instead, and God did as they asked.  Samuel, the chief priest at the time, didn’t like it.  But he obeyed God and anointed Saul – one of the strongest leaders of the day, to be king.

Very soon, though, Saul began overstepping his authority, as kings will.  Samuel noticed it immediately, and withdrew his support. 

So the kingdom was now in conflict.  New king, still on the throne, on one side – the old priest, who used to be in charge, on the other.

What were they to do?

When Samuel turned against Saul he went to Ramah – one of the cities of the tribe of Benjamin, and Saul went home to Gibeah – another city of the same tribe.  And as long as Samuel lived, he never again saw the king, but lamented how bad a choice he had been as king.

The Lord said to Samuel, “How long will you go on lamenting that Saul is king?  I too have rejected him as king.  But now get some olive oil and get over to Bethlehem to see a man named Jesse; I have chosen one of his sons to be king.”

Samuel said, “But if Saul hears about it, he will kill me.”

The Lord answered, “Take a calf with you and say you’re going there to make a sacrifice to me.  Invite Jesse to the sacrifice, and then do what I tell you.  You will anoint the man I show you, as king.”

So Samuel did what the Lord told him.  The leaders of Bethlehem, knowing the conflict between Samuel and the king, were nervous when he arrived.  But Samuel said what God told him to say, he set up the sacrifice, and he invited Jesse and his sons to it.

When they arrived, as soon as Samuel saw the eldest son – the natural heir – and how tall and handsome he was, he thought right away this would be God’s choice and he was ready to anoint him king. 

“Not so fast,” God said.  “I don’t look for leaders the same way people do.  I look at the heart.”

So Jesse then started bringing to Samuel his next son, and next son, and next son after that – until all seven of his eight sons who were with him.  And every one was not chosen by the Lord.

After rejecting the last of the seven, Samuel asked Jesse, “Do you have any other sons?”

“Yes,” Jesse said.  “The youngest.  But he’s out taking care of the sheep.”

“Tell him to come here,” Samuel said.  So Jesse sent for him, and he came in.  He was a good-looking young man with eyes that sparkled, and the Lord said to Samuel, “That’s the one.  Anoint him.”

Samuel took the olive oil, and anointed David in front of his older brothers.  Immediately the spirit of the Lord came to life in David, and was with him from that day on.

And Samuel?  He went back to Ramah. 

 

Meditation 

Prince Caspian, the fourth of seven books in the Chronicles of Narnia series by C. S. Lewis, is a story about the world being set right after a time of unlawful rule and terrible disorder –as timely a theme today as it was seventy years ago when it was written.  And it’s not at all unlike the story we’ve just heard about Israel in the time of Samuel.

Prince Caspian is the rightful heir of a line of good kings.  He has been deprived of the throne by his usurping uncle who killed his father, King Caspian IX, seized control of Narnia, and has brought death, disorder and despair upon the land.  Prince Caspian has has to flee for his life and fight for the good of the kingdom from its edges.

Aslan is the great Christ-figure Lion of the whole series, who long before freed the land of Narnia from the grip of the White Witch, brought life back to the land, and established the sons of Adam and daughters of Eve as rightful kings and queens in perpetuity for the good of all.  Now, in response to the current crisis, Aslan is afoot again – mostly in the background, to help the tale turn in a good direction. 

And things do turn, as they will.  The usurping uncle overplays his hand.  Caspian’s small forces are triumphant.  The way is cleared for the prince to ascend to the throne.  Aslan appears and Caspian is brought before him, to be set at last on the throne for the good of the land. 

“This is Caspian, Sir.”  And Caspian knelt and kissed the Lion’s paw.

“Welcome, Prince,” said Aslan.  “Do you feel yourself sufficient to take up the Kingship of Narnia?”

“I – I don’t think I do, Sir,” said Caspian.  “I’m only a kid.”

“Good,” said Aslan.  “If you had felt yourself sufficient, it would have been a proof that you were not.  Therefore, under us and under the High King, you shall be King of Narnia, Lord of Cair Paravel, and Emperor of the Lone Islands.  You and your heirs while your race lasts.  And now, your coronation …” 

If you had felt yourself sufficient, it would have been proof you are not …

I haven’t been present at an ordination service for United Church ministers for some years, but at the ones I attended, one question always asked of the candidates for ministry was something like “Are you worthy (or maybe, do you feel worthy) of this calling to which you are being ordained – worthy of the ministry of word, sacrament and pastoral care?”

And the answer was always, “Yes, I am worthy.”  Or maybe it was “by the grace of God, I am worthy.”  But even with that qualification, I wondered how they could feel so sure.  But then, maybe I did too, when I started out. 

I wonder … might a better response be one like that of Bette, one of our lay members, when she was asked to take a position on the Church Council?

First, she asked for a few days to think and to pray about it.  Then, a few days later when she accepted the position, she told us her first thought was “No, I don’t have what it takes – neither time, nor experience, nor the skills for the job. But then I thought, they think I am qualified and have what it takes; I can ask for help when I need it; I can learn; and if it really doesn’t work out, at least I’ll have tried and helped out as well as I could until they find the person they need.”

Francois Fenelon, an early eighteenth-century French priest wrote, “it is false humility to believe ourselves unworthy of God’s goodness or God’s call on our lives, and to not dare respond to him with trust.  True humility lies in seeing our unworthiness and giving ourselves up to God, not doubting God can work out good results for us and in us.  If God’s success in what God intends to be done depends on finding our foundations already laid, we might well fear nothing good will come of what we try to do.  But God needs nothing that is in us.  God can never find anything there except what God himself gives us.”

Mother Teresa put it more simply:  God is able to fill an empty vessel with good and for good, more easily than one that is full.

I wonder in the story we read today of Samuel, Saul and David, what kinds of vessels each proved to be at different points along the way.

Samuel early on – especially in the stories we have of his childhood apprenticeship in the Temple under old Eli, was very much an empty and open vessel, ready to be used by God in whatever way God would call and for whatever purpose God would equip him.  “Speak, Lord, your servant is listening” was the mantra of those years in his life.

But as time went on, as it will, and he became established in his rule and his control of the people, did he start to get more and more full – full of himself, full of good intentions, full of principles and prejudices, full of party loyalty and dynastic ambition?  Hence, the way he so scrupulously studied Saul, the new king, for weaknesses and reasons not to support him.

Saul in the beginning, was also exactly the king the people needed against the terrible state they had fallen into.  Into him they poured all their need for someone tall, strong, decisive, courageous and imposing to take charge of the land, and clean out the Jerusalem swamp.  He was an empty vessel ready to be filled with whatever the people projected onto him, until, as it will, pride began to seep in, ambition began to crowd out love for the people he was to serve, and soon he was so full of his own importance that he was no longer of any real good to the greater good of the kingdom, and he and Samuel were simply locked into an ongoing struggle for c0ntrol of the land, each convinced they had God – if not on their side, at least on a string.

And is not David the same?  At first, this wonderful wunderkind from the meadow, this shepherd of the sheep called to be just as good a shepherd of the people.  But read on in the story, and he becomes just as prideful, selfish, and immoral as the rest. 

Why does God choose him and make such a fuss over him?  Maybe only because neither Samuel nor Saul were really receptive anymore to God’s real leading?  Both of the usual suspects were too full of themselves to be opened to God’s true will, and God’s way of making things turn to good?  So, someone unusual, someone from outside the normal circle, someone no one would think of, someone humble enough to be useful for the good of all, was exactly what the doctor ordered and who God went looking for.

And then God left it to Samuel and Saul to get on board and accept the new direction, or not. 

I see three quick lessons in this.

One: God cares about how things go in the world.  Whether on the levels of country or city, community or church or family, God cares whether things go well or poorly for the good of all – especially for the good of the weak and powerless, and God will work – mostly in the background, to help the story turn towards the good.

Two:  Very often it’s the unusual suspects – the ones on the edge, the forgotten and excluded and devalued ones, the ones no one thinks of consulting, who God works through and works with to make things turn in the needed, good direction.  And then it’s up to the ones used to being in charge to open themselves to God’s new direction, and get on board with the way God is working to turn the story towards the good … or not.

And three:  It’s good to give prayerful discernment to who the unusual suspects might be today and among us, as God works to help make our story make a turn to the good?  Who are the ones on the edge, the ones not usually consulted or included, the ones not normally listened to, whom God is now anointing with authority among of us, for the good of all? 

Might it be the First Nations?  Might it be Pakistani immigrants?  Might it be the poor?  Might it be any of a number of “unlikely candidates” whom we normally see just as objects of charity? 

And what will those (like me) who are used to being in charge need to be emptied of, to be open to God’s working, and to be able to get on board with God’s steering of the story to turn out for good?