Speaker 1: How many times does my barely concealed fear of the future bleed out into the way I treat other people? And all of it is fueled by feeds and pundits and prognosticators that are in my ear. I think these are the questions that an ancient tale can inspire because it reminds us to be careful of who we allow to fill in the plot holes and shape the narratives we trust. Today, we return to our teaching series. We've called it becoming King.
I'm excited to jump in today. We're gonna take this sweeping look at the character of King David. And actually, let's not get ahead of ourselves. He is not the king yet. So far in the series, Jeremy has set the stage for our discussion of David by pointing out how, as Christian readers, we should always come to ancient stories like this with an awareness that the story points us in a direction.
It points us towards Jesus. And that's not to say that Jesus is like Moses or like Samuel or like David who is both lowly shepherd and ascending king. No. It points out to us that Jesus is a completely different kind of ruler. These stories are meant to sort of set us up for how we can see him.
Last week, we got to see how David actually took himself into some action for the very first time in what was arguably or is arguably the most referenced episode in all of the Hebrew Bible. Right? His encounter with Goliath. You got this teenage boy. He's quick.
He's whirling his shepherd sling. Then you got this heavyweight champion hurling insults at him. And for all of the ways that that story has become the stuff of cultural idiom, it informs our popular imagination of what an underdog actually is. For all of that, Jeremy encouraged us to consider that in the moments of David's life that lead up to that encounter. There's also so much going on that goes unseen.
See, the text implies that God looks for and sees what we often miss in the world. We also see how David has to lay down the implements of other people to use the skills and tools that he has honed for years. We also see how we also can prepare for the giants of our future by addressing the smallest of tasks and challenges that are right in front of us today. And you know the story. As the story goes, David defeats that giant.
He takes the field, he wins the day, he becomes a national hero. And that's a great end to an episode. Right? I encourage you, that is not the series finale. Today, the story goes on and we discover how fraught the journey of becoming king can be.
Before we jump into all of that, why don't we take a moment, when we calm ourselves, let's pray together. Join me. Loving God, you are present to us now in the sacrament of community. This place, this moment of grace that we share. You're present to us in the quiet rise and fall of our chests in the steady rhythm of our hearts.
You're present to us in the mystery of our becoming. Our awareness of who we are right here, right now. You're right here in the presence we sense. That's been there in all of our story up until now. We also have this awareness of your goodness and what the ancient poets called your glory that fills the whole earth.
And with this awareness, we pray that you would come, would you be our guide, oh holy spirit. Into ancient words, into riveting tales, we pray that you would open our hearts in whatever way that we can, to the ways that you are transforming us, that you are doing this faithful work in us. We pray this in the name of Christ, our hope. Amen. Okay.
Today, we are gonna take a closer look at David and his relationship to Saul, the first king of Israel. And we're gonna talk about time lapses, we're gonna talk about this big plot hole, we're gonna talk about little proverb, and we're gonna talk about lament as learning. And we're gonna begin by dropping right back in to where we left off last week. If this sermon were an episode in a gritty historical drama, it might open with this montage of tightly clipped shots. First, see David running at a giant, and the only audio we can hear is his sandaled feet.
We see a sling arching. We hear the whiz of a projectile, and then the crash of Goliath's body, his stunned face holding our gaze in frame. And then silence, just the sound of wind whistling over stone. Before suddenly, we are lifted up and we are flying over a battle landscape. We see one army running for their lives, stretched out in a trail of terror, and then there's another army scrambling after them in pursuit.
And as the sun sets on that scene, we pick up with the ancient text. First Samuel 18 describes how when the men returned home after David had killed the Philistine, the women came out from all the towns of Israel to greet king Saul with singing and with dancing, with joyful songs, timbrels, lyres. And as they danced, they sang, Saul has slain his thousands, David his tens of thousands. This made Saul very angry. This refrain displeased him greatly.
And from that time on, Saul kept a close eye on David. And this is where we pick up. Right here, on the same day that David becomes David, the sitting king becomes suspicious of him. I think it's actually important that we imagine Saul glaring warily at David through the celebrating crowd. Now if you continue to read Samuel carefully, you can feel like the narrative jumps around a lot.
We're gonna see David become one of Saul's most trusted captains. He's actually become the king's son-in-law at one point. And over a number of chapters, surely some glossed over years, Saul becomes more and more afraid. David is one of Saul's closest attendants, family member in one moment, and in the next, Saul's trying to kill him. David wins more accolades, Saul keeps sending him on missions hoping that someone will kill that guy.
Spoiler, never works. Now all that happens is that the anger and the fear that Saul felt that day that Goliath died, it only seems to intensify. And in the cycles, there's a kind of narrative device at work. As readers, we have information that Saul doesn't have. Namely, that this young baby faced assassin has already been anointed to be king, which means that we know that he is right to be anxious about David.
We're meant to see his unraveling as a sign of God's choosing David. But it's also possible, I wanna suggest to you that we might feel a pang of compassion for Saul. We're gonna come back to that later. Because for me, there's something more pointed and personal in this cycle of this relationship. The fact that David has this experience of feeling chosen, that things are finally coming together, only to have it all go sideways on him in a moment.
He must have felt that fate was kinda pulling his way, that he was kinda having control of his own story, only to end up feeling like he might be a pawn in someone else's. And that narrative device, where the bottom seems to fall out of it all, it has more to teach us, I think. Namely, that no one's life is all ascendancy, no matter what they make it sound like or no matter what it looks like. There is always delay. There is always disaster.
There's always more delay. Actually, helps me remember too that as an idealistic and yet somehow still directionalist student in my twenties, I could not have predicted that I'd move across this country four times, or that I'd do the degrees that I did, or that someday I'd be on YouTube and of all things preaching sermons there. I would have never guessed that there'd be so many breath breathtaking moments and also so much devastating loss. And this is part of why I think we love David's story. Because he had to live through the time lapses just like we do.
And no one no one can take the wisdom that we find and the character we grow, the less certain and yet still somehow more open faith that grace forms in us through each of them we live through. Now, these cycles between David and Saul, they continue for a number of chapters and there's this growing intensity to them. As Saul seems to get closer and closer to capturing David, he actually feels like he's gonna snuff this becoming king story out before it even really gets started. So we jump ahead. We read in first Samuel 24 that Saul was told that David was in the desert of Ein Gedi.
So Saul gets together 3,000 young men from all Israel, sets out to look for him. And Saul comes to the sheep pens that are along the way. There's a cave there and Saul went in to relieve himself and there in the back of this cave is David and a few of his men. And those men said to David, this is the day that the Lord spoke of when he said to you, I will give your enemy into your hands for you to deal with as you want to. Then David crept up unnoticed, stealthily, and he cuts a corner off of Saul's robe.
Now, first things first. I love historical realism, but telling us that Saul had to use the facilities, it's a bit of a TMI moment. Right? Like, what is the narrator thinking here? Just give the guy a moment.
Why do we have to mention that? And it's actually funny how the scriptures focus on certain things at times. The point is the text tells us immediately, and after taking this hem off of, Saul's robe, David is conscience stricken. He regrets this symbolic attack on the king. He repeatedly calls Saul God's anointed.
And in a coarse whisper, he sharply rebukes his men. He won't allow them to attack the king. So Saul gets up out of the cave and is able to get away. There's a few things going on here. First, it's important for you to know that by this point of the story, David has about 400 men in a bit of a militia.
Again, time lapses, sometimes we miss some things. He's been running from Saul for a while. First Samuel 22 tells us that all those who were in distress, all those who were in debt, all those who were discontented had come to join David in the desert. Sounds like a great group of guys. Right?
And the Hebrew vocabulary describing this motley crew suggests that they are, according to one read reading, the rank and file of the dispossessed and malcontent, men with nothing to lose who've been oppressed by the established order. So, if these guys hanging out with David at the back of this cave have been displaced, or they've been taken advantage of, or they've been bullied by Saul's thugs, then it's understandable why when Saul darkens the mouth of the cave and is alone without bodyguards, that those guys would say to David, hey, Pes, remember? This is it. God told you this would happen, that you'd be able to deal with Saul once and for all. The only problem is that there's a massive plot hole here.
Because if you read the story carefully up to this point, at no point does God ever tell David that someday Saul will fall into his hands. The closest it gets is it tells David that he'll defeat the Philistines. So what does this mean? Well, are David's friends privy to some secret memo that they just forgot to pass up the command chain? Or are they kind of daring him?
Is this David's army, bros, just like, you can do it, bro? Or are they just making it up? Are they urging David toward divinely sanctioned violence as a result of being justifiably discontent? Well, the latter wouldn't be that surprising given our human propensity to justify ourselves to all ends. We have this tendency to rope God in as judge and executioner.
But there's actually a more interesting dynamic here, I think. See, David is in a really vulnerable position. Saul's been after him for years. His life's unbearable. So when this perfect opportunity to shortcut the process of vindication and promotion comes his way, let's just assume that it's hard for him to maintain poise.
That it was hard for him to not compromise his values, to not surrender his respect, whatever might have been left of it, for what Saul had done for him as a young man. It must have been hard for him to not break his deep and enduring trust in the God that had made Saul king. It would have been so easy to move on from trusting God's faithfulness and to start making desirable outcomes happen. Especially when he's got those guys in his ear telling him what to do. Right?
And what makes it even more intriguing is how just a few verses later, Saul and David will end up in this exchange. We're gonna talk about that in a And in that exchange, David calls out to Saul, says this in verse nine. He says, why do you listen to men when they say, David is bent on harming you? Can't you see, David begs, I could have killed you when you were in this cave, but I didn't. I've never conspired against you.
And yet, you keep listening to the people who say that I'm after you, which offers this unique twist to this narrative cycle that they've been in. Right? Like, how much of the tension in this whole story is built up and shaped by the people that these two men are listening to? I mean, the drama between them, it might be a bit more complicated than that, but I really do think there's this subtle observation made about the forces that so often turn us against each other. Think about it.
I mean, how many times does the insecurity and tension in our current partnership, how often is that informed by the cruel things someone else said years ago? How many times do we assume something about someone in our work or someone in our family, and we pull away from that person simply because those around us make assertions and hold grudges and tell one-sided stories about that person. How many times, if I'm honest, does my anxiety, does my low level rage it's still low level, guys. I promise. How many times does my barely concealed fear of the future bleed out into the way I treat other people?
And all of it, it's fueled by feeds and pundits and prognosticators that are in my ear. I think these are the questions that an ancient tale can inspire, because it reminds us to be careful of who we allow to fill in the plot holes and shape the narratives we trust. Now, I've got to circle back. Here in the story, David, remember, he cuts that portion off of Saul's robe and he lets the king go. And as Saul walks down the valley to his troops, David calls out to him.
He actually bows to the ground. He honors Saul as God's king. And we end up with this really stylized exchange between the two characters. It makes David look really moral and upright. Saul, not so much.
He looks defeated and forlorn, and his garments don't go all the way to the ground. It looks terrible, actually. And David says to Saul, may the Lord judge between you and me. May the Lord avenge the wrongs you have done to me, but by my hand, I will not touch you. As the old saying goes, from evildoers come evil deeds, so my hand will not touch you.
Just kind of an on brand moment. Right? David's the warrior poet. He's showing his sword skills in one moment. He's sparing his enemies the next, and then he's just dropping pithy little sayings like pixie dust everywhere.
It's a little it's a little on the nose, but I like this proverb for the record. Scholar David Samura translates, observes its point as simply being that deeds express dispositions. Where in effect, David's saying to Saul, pay attention to what I do, to what I've always done, which I think would have been a provocative reminder to Saul as he stands on the valley floor. But I also think it's a reminder for us as readers too that character is always always the summation of our actions in the world. Our character is not our tightly held beliefs.
It's not our well intentioned words. And and that's a compelling truth to take with us into the rest of David's story because he is a complex figure. His actions will reveal what Ellen Davis calls the psychological depth of his character. And it's a depth that leans into the dark side of humanity for sure. And the scriptures will not hide it from us.
They don't obscure how David's true colors, they often hold a host of contradictions just like yours and mine do. I think that the wisdom of this little proverb is meted out over David's entire life as it is for ours. And I think we should take some consolation that character is cumulative. That like David, we can't be reduced to our worst decision or our harshest word or our most regrettable episode. We can, today and tomorrow, we trust, begin the spirit inspired work of building character.
Now for David, in this moment, he cites a little proverb as evidence of his innocence, and the wisdom of it, it cuts straight to Saul's heart. The story goes that the king openly weeps. He sees how wrong he's been. He calls out to David with affection. It seems as though Saul realizes something in this moment, that he has become something less than what he'd hoped.
He realizes that David's become an honorable man. He realizes maybe that this relationship could have been so different. And the compassion we might feel for him, it's made more intense when we realize this is the last two time these two men will face each other, see each other in the story. There's something heartbreaking when Saul finally admits what the narrator has wanted us to know all along, and what we are slowly realizing as a reader. I know that you will surely be king, he says to David.
And the kingdom of Israel will be established in your hands. I think there is a bit of a pause there. And with that, the story picks up pace. See, Saul is gonna descend into even greater paranoia and more self destructive behavior. He is losing his grip on power, which means he's also losing his grip on reality.
And despite how he's talked to David in this intimate encounter, Saul continues to label him as an outlaw, chasing him down. And it gets so bad for David that we see him seek shelter among who? He goes to the Philistines, which that's a bit of a stunning narrative development, wouldn't you say? Right? Just last week, David is slaying the Philistine champion.
And by the end of first Samuel, we will see that David has become a kind of hired mercenary for the Philistine cause, which is an indicator maybe of how loose and contested the tribal boundaries were in Bronze Age Palestine, but it also makes for great storytelling. Because there's this moment when it looks like David's gonna have to line up against Saul. Because yet again, there's a battle between Israel and the Philistines. And in a turn of events, David is elsewhere when that battle happens, a battle in which all of Israel's champions and most of the king's heirs are killed. And in that battle, we see having lost so much and completely surrounded by enemies, Saul falls on his own sword to avoid being captured.
And in this way, Saul's final days are a tragic image of what power and control do to everyone who wields it. And then, as second Samuel begins, we see David hear the news of this battle. And him and all of his men, they are shocked. They mourn. They fast all day and into the evening.
And they're overcome with grief for their nation. They're overcome with grief for the loss of the army. They are overcome with grief for the loss of Saul. And David takes up a lament for Saul and his son, Jonathan, who we'll talk about next week. And in this lament, David sings, a gazelle lies slain on your heights, oh Israel.
How the mighty have fallen. Mountains Of Gilboa, which is where that battle took place. May you have neither dew nor rain. May no showers fall on your terraced fields. For there, the shield of the mighty was despised, the shield of Saul.
Saul and Jonathan, in life they were loved and admired. In death, they were not parted. They were swifter than eagles. They were stronger than lions. Now, again, some scholars will point out that we should probably read this poem as just a performance.
It's just another case of the ancient narrators trying to make David look good in his first magisterial moment. And they think this in part because David looks like he glosses over how terrible Saul was to him. He also glosses over how tense Saul and Jonathan's relationship was. But also because this lament from a literary perspective, it functions as a link between the story of Saul and David. Now we're in the story of King David.
And I think that link is worth noticing. But I wanna suggest to you that this lament isn't here in scripture just because it keeps the story together. I think it models something deeply true about the human experience. See, I think that it's in the forming of these words. David hasn't glossed over his memory.
He's processed it and grieved it. And it's as he sits with and lives through the waves of emotion, it's right there that David begins to find his next step forward. And his approach, facing grief and practicing lament. That's both poignant for the narrative, but I think it's actually pretty clinically and therapeutically sound. Why do I think that?
Well, because I think there's a model here for anyone who's ever had to honor a complicated past. Just like David had to with Saul. Right? Don't some relationships loom large for us? And their fault lines stay with us?
They cast this shadow that's long and dark across the years. And sometimes, let's just tell the truth, we need help because grief is a long and a winding process. But there's also a model here for you if you've had to lament lost time. If you've ever had a missed opportunity, God knows that's all of us. Or if there's ever been a situation that's out of your control, if you've ever had to reckon your reconcile yourself to the if onlys.
I think, two, there's a model here for any of us who might be living through this moment we're all in together. And, you've got some anxiety about the future. And, why do we have that? Well, because it can feel a little like things have unraveled. We want things to be different than they are.
And maybe we feel like we're having a hard time holding to faith. We don't know what else we can do. And I don't know about you, but I feel like in me, can be this tendency to lash out in moments like this. Cast blame and grow hard with anger and despair. Well, maybe the first thing I need to do is admit that I'm sad.
Admit what I've lost. Admit where there's so much longing. And maybe you can write a lament for yourself, for the world this week. Because what I think David's response shows us is that lament is a form of learning. There is a kind of grieving that leads us into new becoming.
It's the kind of grief that honors all of the time lapses in your life. It's the kind of grief that grounds you, reminds you of God's quiet, persistent presence in those who are right beside you, offering care and support. It's the kind of grief that bears witness to who you've been, and then opens you up to new beginnings. Let us trust this this week. Let's pray.
Loving God, again, we meet you at the intersection of an ancient story and all the complexity of our own experience. We're present to those moments in our lives where things seem to happen so quickly, and it takes us a minute to catch up. And also, have to be honest about those moments in our lives when it feels as though things are moving so excruciatingly slow. It can feel like we're stuck in a cycle. And like David, what we want to do is we want to have open heart to being honest about where we are.
And we want to form words of lament and we want to form a posture of quiet courage that trusts that your gentle voice is leading us forward. You are here with us in community and in the relationships that surround us, and you are there with us in the world, guiding us, we pray. And so, for every heart today that is heavy, for every heart that burns with a desire for things to be different, Yeah. Would you form in each of us a response of trust? A quiet trust, frail, fragile trust, but trust that it is your story moving us forward.
These things we pray in the light and in the hope of Christ. Amen.
Speaker 2: Hey. Jeremy here, and thanks for listening to our podcast. If you're intrigued by the work that we're doing here at Commons, you can head to our website, commons.church, for more information. You can find us on all of the socials commonschurch. You can subscribe to our YouTube channel where we are posting content regularly for the community.
You can also join our Discord server. Head to commons.churchdiscord for the invite, and there you will find the community having all kinds of conversations about how we can encourage each other to follow the way of Jesus. We would love to hear from you. Thanks for tuning in, have a great week, and we'll talk to
Speaker 1: you soon.