"Earthly Kingdoms" - Preached at St. Margaret's, June 15, 2018
Intro
Echoing through
the latter half of the book of Judges sounds the messianic refrain, “there was
no king in Israel, all the people did what was right in their own eyes.” As the
book of Judges reaches its dystopian conclusion with the slaughter of the Benjaminites
and the communally-sanctioned kidnapping of hundreds of young women, the only
hope the narrator can provide to make sense of Israel’s wickedness is that, if
only there was a king, perhaps things could be other than they are. Thus, we
enter the story of 1 Samuel with the last words of the narrator of Judges
ringing in our ears, setting our expectations for what lies ahead. “There was
no king in Israel, all the people did what was right in their own eyes.”
As we pick up
the story of 1 Samuel in today’s reading, we find that the negatively expressed
expectation of Judges has given way to a full-throated demand for a king. The
charismatic leadership of the judges ended in chaos and oppression from
Israel’s enemies on every side. Israel demands Samuel to give them a king that
can go ahead of them to fight their enemies; that they might be like the other
nations. But a king to go ahead of Israel to fight their enemies is precisely
who Yahweh had promised to be when he brought them up from Egypt with a mighty
hand and an outstretched arm. As we were reminded last Sunday, the
establishment of monarchy in Israel was an ambiguous good at best – at once
both a grace and a rebuke for Israel’s rejection of God’s kingship.
Saul
Our text today begins
with Samuel’s grief over the rejection of Saul. The transition of power from
Saul to David is a story that will take most of the rest of the book of 1 Samuel
to complete, but today’s episode is a moment in that story that is particularly
charged with comedic irony. David’s anointing is strikingly reminiscent of
Saul’s own anointing. In 1 Samuel 9, we are introduced to this famous son of
Kish: “He had a son whose name was Saul, a handsome young man. There was not a
man among the people of Israel more handsome than he; he stood head and
shoulders above everyone else” (1 Sam. 9:2). Samuel anoints Saul in the context
of a sacrificial feast and then tells him that the Spirit will come upon him
and cause a prophetic frenzy within him. This comes to pass, and it is
whispered among the Israelites that Saul is among the prophets. Saul goes on to
fight the enemies of Israel on every side, finding victory against all their
foes, and delivering Israel from the heavy yoke of oppression.
Yet Saul is a
tragic character, doomed to fail. He has his dynasty stripped from him for
offering priestly sacrifices – an activity that is within the royal prerogative
to perform. His kingship is stripped from him for failing to carry out the herem against the Amalekites. His
kingdom is torn from him, and the prophetic spirit that fueled his charismatic
reign becomes an evil spirit that torments him into madness. While some may
look for sins or specific actions that Saul took to lose God’s favour, reading
Saul as a tragically doomed figure illuminates the way God’s acquiescence to
Israel’s demand for a king is both a grace and a rebuke. Saul indeed delivers
Israel from foreign oppression, but meets a doomed end precisely as his sphere
of sovereignty lays claim to that which is properly God’s alone. Thus, in
Saul’s rejection we are brought back to the gracious face of God with the
opening line of our text today: “And the Lord was sorry that he had made Saul
king over Israel.” God grieves Israel’s rejection of him, and grieves the doom
that has befallen the secular personification of Israel in the life of Saul.
David
Now
that Saul’s doom has been pronounced, that old refrain from the days of the
Judges sounds again just below the surface of our text. There is no longer a
king in Israel, something must be done. But this is where the comedic irony
that I mentioned above enters the story most forcefully. Listen carefully again
to the anointing of David:
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.” Samuel
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.’ Invite 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.”
Samuel 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?” He
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.
When they came, he looked on
Eliab and thought, “Surely the Lord’s anointed is now before the Lord.”
But 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.” Then Jesse called Abinadab, and made
him pass before Samuel. He said, “Neither has the Lord chosen this
one.” Then Jesse made Shammah pass by. And he said, “Neither has the Lord chosen
this one.” Jesse made seven of his sons pass before Samuel, and Samuel said to
Jesse, “The Lord has not chosen any of these.” Samuel 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.” He 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.” Then 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.
David’s
anointing narrative is carefully subverting Saul’s anointing in important ways.
First, remember that in Saul’s anointing, it is Saul who is drawn to the
prophet, an innocent victim, unaware that he approaches his doom. In David’s
anointing narrative, however, Yahweh drives the prophet to seek him out,
discarding what very well might be viable alternatives along the way. Both
David and Saul are thus portrayed as figures of fate – yet it is clear from the
narrative differences of their anointing that their fates will not be the same.
While Saul’s
anointing takes place in the context of a sacrifice, in our text the prophet
uses the pretense of a sacrifice to secretly anoint David. When Jesse presents
his first son, Eliab, to Samuel, Samuel sees a replacement in the mould of King
Saul and is convinced that this is the one. But Yahweh rebukes Samuel,
reminding him that it is not the outward appearance that counts. Remember, that
back in chapter 9, when Saul is introduced, the first thing we learn is that he
comes from money, is handsome, and is very tall. Clearly Samuel has a type –
but is it because, as we might assume, that Samuel thinks these outward markers
are signs of kingship, or is this superficiality part of Samuel’s revenge on a
people who have rejected his divinely appointed charismatic rule in favour of a
king? The text is silent on such speculations, but my suspicion is that it is
the latter.
Once all the
sons of Jesse have been presented and rejected, finally, David is called from
the fields. Now remember, God has told Samuel that he “judges the heart” not
the outward appearance, so we are set up to expect that David must have some
sort of exceptionally pure heart that sets him apart from both his many
brothers and the former King Saul. Yet it is right here, when our expectations
for messianic kingship are at their highest, that the narrator signals that all
is not as it seems. Conditioned as our expectation are by the refrain from
Judges, the failed kingship of Saul, the divine guidance by which Samuel seeks
out David, we would expect that here at last is the king that God has chosen,
the anointed messiah that will be the conduit by which God mediates his
relationship with Israel in this new political moment. But this is not the text
we have, instead, the narrator tells us that “he was ruddy, and had beautiful
eyes, and was handsome.” The joke is revealed, the messianic anticipation
collapses into comedic irony, and we discover that David is ultimately a king
like all other kings – bearing the superficial marks of nobility in a pale
imitation of the divine majesty of Yahweh.
As the story of
David continues to unfold throughout the rest of the book, we discover that he
and his progeny are everything that Samuel warned against when the people first
demanded a king. David, in a horrifying display of vengeance will finish the
genocide of the Amalekites that Saul failed to complete, yet David is not
censured when he keeps the spoils of war for himself. His son Solomon takes
foreign wives, stockpiles arms from Egypt, and worships other gods. In short,
the Davidic line will make a mockery of the Deuteronomic laws that govern
kingship and will ultimately land all of Israel and Judah in exile.
Jesus
The
messianic dream that drove Israel to anoint kings is an understandable and
natural desire. Evil and chaos are always threatening to overwhelm the people
of God, and under the yoke of oppression, God’s silence can seem too much to
bear. There is a natural longing for an anointed one of God to come and deliver
us from our enemies and to set things aright. This desire can be so powerful
that it ultimately tempted Israel to proclaim that it had no king but Caesar,
thus missing the ultimate anointed one who hung under the sign, “King of the
Jews.” It is a desire that we continue to replicate today as we elect
governments who use scriptures such as Romans 13 to defend unjust policies;
cravenly reminding us that it is God who establishes their authority, lest we
think to challenge their definition of “justice.” Our blind desire for
messianic governance, while good and right in spirit, betrays our fickle
tendency to see only the enemies on all sides, and in so doing, lose track of
the grain of the universe that points us toward the God who brought up both
Israel from Egypt and Jesus from the grave. We desire a king to save us, but no
matter how handsome our politicians may be, the only king that can truly
fulfill our desires is the one who hung on a cross; grotesque, despised, and
rejected.
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