Saugatuck Congregational Church, UCC
©Rev. Alison J. Buttrick Patton
June 14, 2015
Scripture: 1 Samuel (15:34-35) 16:1-13
David doesn’t become king right away. He is summoned to the court of King Saul (who was the first king of Israel, the one Samuel anointed after the people insisted that they needed a king). Saul is agitated – call it job stress, so David arrives, lyre in hand, to provide a little music therapy. The rest, as they say, is history. Eventually, David replaces Saul on the throne, and so begins the golden era of the Davidic reign.
At least, that’s how it is remembered. In truth, King David had his good days and his very bad days, a few soaring triumphs and some colossal failures – which pretty much goes for all of us. In case we haven’t picked up on this pattern yet: God doesn’t choose people because they are free of flaws, or beautiful or tall or well-mannered or credentialed. On the contrary, God seems determined to mess with all our assumptions about what count as qualifications, when it comes to serving the Most High.
To begin with, there’s the whole first born narrative. In the ancient near east, the first born son was regarded as the family jewel, the one who would inherit the family business and give honor to the family name. But find me one first born son who is ‘favored’ by God in the Hebrew Bible: Have you heard of Cane and Abel? Ishmael and Isaac? Esau and Jacob? Reuben and Joseph? In every case, it’s the younger son who gets God’s blessing and a lead part in the unfolding drama of God and God’s people. So much for firstborn privilege. (any youngest siblings in the house?)
In David’s case, God passes over all seven of his older brothers (this is a youngest sibling’s dream!). There’s old Samuel, walking slowly down the line, one hand holding a ram’s horn full of anointing oil; the other hand pointing out each brother, in turn, starting with Eliab: “Ah, now here’s a fine looking man: tall and stately – a real leader type (a lot like King Saul, wouldn’t you say, God?) He’s an excellent choice!” But: “No,” God says, “He’s tall, but I’m not looking for tall…”
Samuel, clearly baffled, moves on to Abinadab (“Now here’s a handsome fellow!…No..?”), and then to Shammah (“I hear he’s a fierce warrior!…No, again?”) and on down the line, until there is no one left. It’s getting late and they all want their dinner, so Samuel asks Jesse (the Dad), “is this it?”
It turns out, that’s not it. David, inconsequential David, tender of sheep, youngest of eight, the one who gets routinely lost in the shuffle and left to his own devices (as so often happens with the youngest in a large family), has been forgotten again. “Oh…David! Of course: David. Has anyone seen David?” “I think I saw him heading for the fields this morning,” someone offers. “Well, go get him!” says Samuel, clearly exasperated. Of course, it turns out that David’s the one. God’s choice. The young man with the sunburnt face and the grubby hands. The one who smells of sheep’s wool. Now, it seems the narrator cannot resist commenting that David is, in fact, a real looker – with ruddy cheeks and beautiful eyes. But let’s be honest: David was nowhere on the radar until Samuel summoned him.
You could say God spotted him first. God saw his potential, before anyone else noticed. Spotted him, because God had entirely different criteria, was focused not on David’s height, but on his heart. In the ancient Near East, the heart is considered the core of a person; the place where both thoughts and feelings are lodged. To look into someone’s heart is to see not only what she feels but how she thinks. It is to learn something about a person’s true self, about her character, as in that dream expressed by the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., that children might someday be judged, ‘not by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.”
“I’m not looking for tall; [Said God.] I’m looking for someone who can shepherd my people with wisdom and compassion; someone who knows about wild beasts and frightened lambs; someone with patience, a strong arm, a good eye, and a capacity for joy; someone who will love Me and my people with his whole heart…”
The story of David has resonated for generations with those who live on the margins. It’s the story of the underdog, the misfit, the unlikely hero. Did you notice that David doesn’t even get mentioned by name until the very end of the story, when it says, “the spirit of the LORD gripped David from that day on.” This is a come-out-of-nowhere success story.
It’s striking, because this is not how life ordinarily unfolds. More often than not, appearances do matter, more than we care to admit. Did you know that taller people tend to have more education, and higher income levels, than shorter people?[1] Studies suggest that attractive people are hired sooner and promoted more often. And while it’s worth asking whose definition of ‘attractive’ is used in such studies, it’s clear that the measure of beauty is more likely to be the shape of one’s nose or the shade of one’s skin than the content of one’s heart. In school and at work, we are judged – and judge others – based on the most superficial criteria. We are looked at every day. What we long for, I suspect, is to be seen.
Just as people get labeled (tall or not; beautiful or not; normal or not), so do neighborhoods. Have you noticed: economically depressed communities most often get described in terms of their struggles: x number of abandoned buildings; Y number of vacant lots; this much crime; that much unemployment. Sociologist John McKnight suggested a different approach. He asked: what are the assets in a given neighborhood? Where are the gifts and resources that might help this community to thrive? His approach changed the conversation by changing the way we measure the health of a place: Is this a trashy neighborhood, or is it a neighborhood poised to launch a recycling business? Is that abandoned lot an eye sore or the perfect spot for a community garden? Is your aging neighbor a burden or the keeper of your community’s history?
McKnight saw the potential in places that had been written off by others, because he had a different set of criteria all together.
It strikes me that what we do to people, and neighborhoods, we might also do to churches. Even in communities of faith, tall is better (think ‘tall-steeple churches’ – which refers to churches which are large in both size and influence). Big is preferred. And who’s to argue about the appeal of a thriving community, where more people gather to be touched and changed by the power of God’s Good News?
But when the number of bodies in the building becomes the primary measure of a church’s success, I wonder whether we are not evaluating our communities of faith the same way that Samuel evaluated David’s oldest brother Eliab. What if we looked, not just at outward signs, but at the heart of the church?
What might be the measure of our success? In their book, Liberating Hope, Daring to Renew the Mainline Church, co-authors Cameron Trimble and Michael Piazza ask what it would be like to gage the health of community not by keeping attendance records, but by counting:
- The number of people who are serving others in some venue
- The number of people able to articulate their life’s mission
- The number of people reporting addiction recovery progress
- The number of people who have cultivated friendships with folks of a difference race, economic class or sexual orientation
- The number of people who never thought they would find a welcoming church home who now worship regularly, OR
- (how about) the number of phone calls from community leaders looking to collaborate with the church
- The number of pictures on the wall of our long-term mission partners
- The number of places we gather to work, worship and play or…
The list can go on.
At our Christian Education retreat yesterday, we asked, three years from now, how might we measure the success of our youth and children’s programs? Interestingly, not one person remarked on the number of youth. Instead, they said this: We will know we are being successful when there is “high energy, genuine love and excitement.”
Now that’s a measure worthy of God’s people. As we strive to be that church, we will surely have good days and bad days, a few soaring triumphs and some colossal failures. But in case we haven’t picked up on this pattern yet: God didn’t choose us because we are free of flaws, or beautiful or tall or well-mannered or credentialed. On the contrary, God goes straight to the heart of the matter, sees us as we are, celebrates our gifts and calls us as we are, to love God and God’s people with our whole heart.
“This one,” God says. “I choose this one. This person. This church. This youth group. This amazing gathering of people.”
Scripture
1 Samuel (15:34-35) 16:1-13 – New Revised Standard Version
The Lord said to Samuel, “How long will you grieve over Saul? I have rejected him from being king over Israel. Fill your horn with oil and set out; I will send you to Jesse the Bethlehemite, for I have provided for myself a king among his sons.” 2Samuel said, “How can I go? If Saul hears of it, he will kill me.” And the Lord said, “Take a heifer with you, and say, ‘I have come to sacrifice to the Lord.’ 3Invite Jesse to the sacrifice, and I will show you what you shall do; and you shall anoint for me the one whom I name to you.” 4Samuel did what the Lord commanded, and came to Bethlehem. The elders of the city came to meet him trembling, and said, “Do you come peaceably?” 5He said, “Peaceably; I have come to sacrifice to the Lord; sanctify yourselves and come with me to the sacrifice.” And he sanctified Jesse and his sons and invited them to the sacrifice. 6When they came, he looked on Eliab and thought, “Surely the Lord’s anointed is now before the Lord.” 7But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him; for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” 8Then Jesse called Abinadab, and made him pass before Samuel. He said, “Neither has the Lord chosen this one.” 9Then Jesse made Shammah pass by. And he said, “Neither has the Lord chosen this one.” 10Jesse made seven of his sons pass before Samuel, and Samuel said to Jesse, “The Lord has not chosen any of these.” 11Samuel said to Jesse, “Are all your sons here?” And he said, “There remains yet the youngest, but he is keeping the sheep.” And Samuel said to Jesse, “Send and bring him; for we will not sit down until he comes here.” 12He sent and brought him in. Now he was ruddy, and had beautiful eyes, and was handsome. The Lord said, “Rise and anoint him; for this is the one.” 13Then Samuel took the horn of oil, and anointed him in the presence of his brothers; and the spirit of the Lord came mightily upon David from that day forward. Samuel then set out and went to Ramah.
[1] http://content.time.com/time/business/article/0,8599,1913256,00.html