Tuesday, November 3, 2015

The Times They Are a'Changing (Pentecost 22 ; 2 Samuel 5:1-5; 6:1-5 ; October 25, 2015 )

The Times They Are a'Changing

Pentecost 22
2 Samuel 5:1-5; 6:1-5
October 25, 2015
Rev. John M. Caldwell, PhD
First United Methodist Churchy
Decorah, IA

Since the beginning of September, our path through the Bible began in Genesis and has led us through what have been perhaps some unfamiliar places. But this morning we are on firmer ground with Boaz and Ruth's great grandson, David the King.

Most of what is to me the most interesting material has been skipped over, though, and we begin David's story with his second anointing as the king over all the Israelites. All the tribes of Israel came to David at the most important holy place in the territories, Hebron. There they declared their kinship to him and entered into a covenant to have him as their king. English kings and queens are crowned, but ancient Israelite kings were anointed: they had olive oil poured over their heads as a sign of the presence of God's Spirit and of God's favor.

David then moved his capital from Hebron to Jerusalem. As my first Old Testament professor liked to say, Jerusalem is called the City of David because it was in fact David's city: he had captured it and owned it as the spoils of war.

He didn't just move his capital to his city, though. David moved God's “chest,” as our translation calls it, from Kiriath-jearim to Jerusalem as well. This chest—also called the ark of the covenant in other places and translations, in Indiana Jones and the Ark of the Covenant, for instance, is described as God's throne. In its histories, Israel remembers that God's chest was built during their time of desert wanderings. It was made of cedar and covered with gold. It had two winged figures, called cherubim, facing each other from either end of the chest. It also had rings attached to the sides so that it could be lifted and carried with poles without having to touch it.

Touching God's chest was dangerous, as Indiana Jones could have told you. In fact, our reading ends just in time to avoid learning that, instead of carrying the ark on poles, the Israelites brought the chest to Jerusalem on an ox cart. When the chest began to tumble off the cart, Uzzah, who was walking along side the cart, put out his hand to keep it from falling. In the story God took this as an affront and struck Uzzah dead where he stood. The text says that David was angry but it neglects to tell us why or at whom. Ending the reading where the lectionary did was probably a good decision.

David brought the chest to Jerusalem, his capital, his city. David proposed to build a temple to house the ark, but Nathan, his prophet, in a rare confrontation (the other being the matter of David and Uriah the Hittite and his wife Bathsheba), told him that David would not be allowed to build a temple because his hands were blood-stained from all the wars that he had fought. The task of building a temple would fall to David's son, Solomon. Until that time, the chest or ark continued to be kept in a large tent.

You may remember that this chest had led the procession of the traveling Israelites through the wilderness. The chest followed the fiery column of smoke that signified God's presence. The people followed the chest.

Later, when the tribes took up residence in the land of promise, whenever they had to go to war, the ark went with them. It was Israel's secret weapon. God went with the ark, the ark went with Israel, and Israel was victorious in its battles, presumably because they had the ark with them.

Now it is one thing to believe that we are fighting on God's side against steep odds. It is quite another to believe that God fights on our side. Can you hear the difference? The first assumes that we must follow God; the second, that God will follow us. The ark as the sign of God's glorious presence in Israel is a dangerous temptation. Israel is tempted to believe that no matter what it does, God is somehow obliged to support and protect it.

David only made this worse by bringing the ark to his city. Does the ark belong to the king? Or does the king belong to the ark? Has God been co-opted to the royal agenda? Does the presence of the ark—and eventually the Temple—give the king permission to do whatever he wants all the while claiming immunity because God will have to protect “the place where God's name lives?”

But these questions don't seem to have been on the people's mind as they celebrated a new-found sense of establishment and stability in a dangerous world, nor even on David's mind as he danced with all his strength in the presence of Yahweh, the covenant God of Israel.

The times they were a’changing. During the time of David's great grandparents, Boaz and Ruth, the covenant people were not really a nation. Only during a crisis did figures they called “judges” arise to give unity to all the tribes. Judges did not simply render decisions. They were revivalists of a sort, calling the people back to covenant faithfulness. They were often military leaders as well. A judge would rally all the tribes to face a threat. But as soon as the crisis passed, the judge would fade into the background. Israel would revert to being a loose federation of clans who, more often than not, jostled and even fought each other rather than their common enemies. (They remind me of my Scottish highland ancestors.)

When some of them looked around they saw that, compared to other nations, they lacked a king, a figure who could prepare for crisis as well as meet it after it arose, someone who, by passing the throne down to his sons, could guarantee stability in the long term.

When they asked Samuel, the last of the judges, to provide a king for them, Samuel tried hard to talk them out of it. A king would tax them, take their sons for soldiers and their daughters for servants. A king would make them miserable, as they were miserable in Egypt under Pharaoh. Besides, to demand a king was to deny their God. But the people would not be dissuaded. Samuel gave them Saul, but he just didn't work out. Saul didn't really understand kingship or the changes that were needed to make it work. But David understood that a king is more than a permanent judge. He knew what to do. He was well-liked and gifted with charisma so he not only knew what to do and how to do it; he had the talent to pull it off.

The times they were a’changing, and Israel's life shifted. It became more than a collection of tribes with a shared history. It had a king. It had a capital and a sacred center.

Over the coming centuries the king and the priests who cared for the ark agreed on one thing: people should worship in Jerusalem. The local shrines should be deemphasized and suppressed.

But that meant that God was not as locally available to the people of Israel. This introduced new and disturbing questions: What does it mean to be God's people? For what should they hope? How should they live?

These, of course, are the very questions that God's people always face in times of great change. When things are stable, it's not so hard to figure out where God is going, so we're more easily able to align ourselves with God's purposes. But when there are rapid and deep changes in our world—as I believe there are now and for the foreseeable future—it gets harder. We're supposed to be Jesus-followers. But where is Jesus, anyway, and where is he headed?

Our small groups are one way we have of trying to answer that question. When we listen carefully, God has a chance of getting a word in edgewise. That won't make our struggles go away. It won't mean that budgets suddenly become easier to meet. It won't mean that we have to turn away families for lack of room. It won't bring back the glory days of the last century. It's just a way trying to find out where Jesus is headed so we can follow him through the changes that are happening outside and within these walls.

The times they are a’changing. Fortunately for us, though, even in the midst of change and uncertainty, there are some things that stay the same. We are still called to remember and tell the stories of our faith and teach them to our children. We are still called to celebrate the love of the God who made us and who delivers us from all the forces that try to diminish and dehumanize our lives. We are still called to feed the hungry, house the homeless, clothe the ill-clad, visit the sick and imprisoned, and welcome the stranger. These have not changed and won't.

The times they are a’changing. But we are still called to continue to be a generous people. In the midst of a changed and changing world we have our noisy offerings and our blanket offerings. And we make regular and generous giving a part of our lives. This is a part of who we are. The times they are a’changing, but this will not change.

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