Mr. Roy A. McAlpine
July 12, 2009
The Sixth Sunday after Pentecost
Proper 10, Year B

Karl Barth, the German theologian, said that preaching should always be an offering of a word about the word about the Word.  That is, a word (from the preacher – also, a “word” – a reminder to keep the sermon short) about the word (the scriptural passage read that day) about the Word (God, Jesus Christ, as in the opening of the Gospel of John:  “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God”).  When I first heard this catchy sentence in seminary, it seemed hard to accept.  It seemed a little too pat and a little too, well, Christian; that is, exclusive of the Jewish tradition in which Jesus lived, and the source of our faith.  Also, I find myself resisting the strong attempt of some to put Jesus in the Hebrew Scripture, that is, the Old Testament. 

But Barth’s words lodged in my brain and are slowly converting me.  The readings today struck me in a way that leads me to appreciate the richness of his directive.

We have two stories:  one about King David, a complex man chosen by God to unify the 12 tribes of Israel into one realm; and another story in which Herod, the Tetrarch of Judea at the time of Jesus, figures prominently.  Jesus is hardly mentioned in the readings.  I’d like to focus on the earlier story.

In this scene, David is bringing the ark of the covenant into Jerusalem, the city he has recently captured.  He had just been anointed king of Israel by the elders there.  Seven years earlier he had been anointed king of Judah.  His entry into Jerusalem marks the end of a long period of war against the Philistines, the unification of the 12 tribes, and the beginning of peace.  His first act as king is to bring the ark of the covenant – the holy of holies – into the city.  David had been called by God and followed God’s leading throughout his life; and so he brought the ark, which held the tablets from Sinai and marked the actual presence of God, into the city.  He led other men in dancing in wild happiness in the procession before the ark, and he also offered sacrifices and “offerings of well-being for the people.”  He blessed the multitude in the name of the LORD of hosts, gave them abundant food, and they went home. 

As king, he did not act with the dignity which some expected, as we see in the reaction of Michal, his wife.  This was a new kind of king:  He put God first.  He was not the center of attention:  God was, in God’s presence in the ark.  He danced before God.  He offered sacrifices to God and blessings to the people, like a priest, and provided his people with good food, like a king and a father.  This was not the usual oriental potentate.

Herod, though sometimes called “king,” is more a governor within a hierarchy; but his contrast with David is striking because of the narrative parallels:  the dancing, the shame, the difficult relationship with his wife, the sacrifice, a meal, the presence of others.  Herod is focused on himself:  his birthday, his daughter, his pride, his fear.  His scene lacks the presence of God, except that Herod noted – and feared – John’s holiness.  He too made a sacrifice, not of himself or of his supposed dignity, as David did, but of that holy man, one whom he had imprisoned for the man’s protection.  He sacrificed, not to God, but to his own ego.

Having gone this far in this subject, let’s admit something.  As Americans, this talk of kings seems sentimental and antiquarian at best; certainly it has nothing to do with us, or our actual lives.  Last week, on the fourth of July, we celebrated our rejection of monarchy, and, to this day, though we are head over heels in love with the idea of the British monarchy, we wouldn’t stand for such a consideration in the real world of the United States for even a micro-second.  Would it help us to know that God, too, didn’t want kings, and had Samuel tell the people how kings would rob them of their possessions, their freedom, even their lives?  Does it help to know that the people chose the system of kings against God’s preference – and that God let them?

So, if we want to take the Bible – the word – seriously, what do we do with all this about kings in the scripture? – for the supremacy of God forms, not a thread, but a swath of material in the tapestry of the narrative, from beginning to end.  We need, if we can, to let the Word touch us.

My heart was awakened by an event in the story of David.  At the end of the story, he fed the multitude and sent them home.  Wait!  Jesus, too, fed a multitude!  Suddenly I realized that the later story wasn’t just a kind of impossible, memorable way of saying that Jesus has the power to do miracles.  More than that, it told us that Jesus was a king providing for his people.  The signs of Jesus’ as king are subtle and not what we might expect.  What other parallels are there in this story that help me understand Jesus as king?

David, the king, acted as a priest, wearing the ephod, and offering sacrifices and blessings.  Jesus acted as a priest – our great High Priest, as the author of Hebrews calls him – and offered himself as sacrifice.  Most of all, David the king, in the ark, brought the presence of God to Jerusalem; Jesus, in himself, brought the presence of God to the world. 

There are many reasons that Jesus is called “Son of David”….  Like David, he is certainly a different kind of king from our experience or history of kings. 

We might be reminded that Jesus’ main message was not about peace, love, and harmony, but, in his own words, about the kingdom of God.  This he apparently saw as something both living and true in our life in the here and now, and in the life to come.  But it doesn’t fit our expectations.  It’s not that the kingdom is not apparent, but that we have to learn to change our perspectives to see it.

So, the word has told me something about the Word, and I have tried to share it with you.  But, like the knife salesman on late-night TV, “There’s more!”

A word calls for a response.  In our faith community, the Word speaks, in love, and awaits a response.  When our fiber tightens against the concept of a king – or any authority over our life – what can we do?

- When I read about kings (or queens, or judges) in the Bible, I now want to ask, what does this tell me about Jesus’ kingship?  How is it different?

- The psalm tells us, “You speak in my heart, and say, ‘Seek my face.’  Your face, Lord, will I seek.”  A king who wants me to seek him out in the very life he has given to me?  Can I seek God’s face in the people I meet, and in our interactions?  Can I accept that kingship?

- Finally, can I come – with the multitude – to God’s feast on this day, and be a part of it with thanksgiving?  Can I accept the sacrifice our King has made, accept his invitation to participate in the fellowship of his meal, all the while learning that it stems, not from my worth, but from God’s abundant generosity?  And then, can I go home in peace?

Let us pray:

You do not command me, Lord, like a King, but you offer me a Word:  “You speak in my heart, and say, ‘Seek my face.’  Your face, Lord, will I seek.”

Copyright © 2009 by Roy A. McAlpine