Sermon Seeds: Unanticipated Vulnerability

Sunday, June 6, 2021

Second Sunday after Pentecost Year B

(Liturgical Color: Green)

1 Samuel 8:4–11 (12–15) 16–20 (11:14–15) and Psalm 138

Genesis 3:8–15 and Psalm 130

2 Corinthians 4:13–5:1

Mark 3:20–35

Sermon Seeds

Focus Scripture: 

1 Samuel 8:4–20, 11:14–15

Focus Theme: 

Unanticipated Vulnerability

Reflection:

By Cheryl Lindsay

You can see it coming. The child reaching toward the hot stove who you have to quickly divert before they get burned. The person who climbed over the fence at the zoo to fall into the space of an animal who only poses a danger to those who enter their territory. The family who does not seek shelter in the face of an oncoming tornado or hurricane and has to be rescued from the rubble.

There are times that we receive warning, when we have advance notice that certain actions or behaviors are not good for us and will lead to struggle, discomfort, or even calamity. There are times when we can predict less than favorable outcomes to the course we have doggedly pursued.

The most unforgettable moment for me from the movie Titanic is that moment when the captain of the ship, who had ignored cautions and warnings himself, turns toward the owner and says, “Well I do believe you will get your headlines, Mr. Ismay.” It’s both confession and accusation. They are facing a disaster that they could have avoided by listening and making decisions based on the anticipated danger. The two men served as accomplices reaching for fame for themselves while putting the lives of everyone on that ship in peril. Shocked that the moment they’d been warned against has arrived, they respond in the bitter acceptance of the captain or stunned denial of the owner who proclaims, “This ship cannot ship.” The architect Thomas Andrews counters, “She’s made of iron. I assure you she can.” He could see it coming.

In the life of the people of the covenant, the prophet has the role of being the one who can see it coming. Like Mr. Andrews, they can anticipate a future when their warnings are not heeded. These divine messengers speak for God in a given situation and to a particular people. Prophets are also charged to speak truth to power, often challenging human leaders who oppress and marginalize the people under their influence and governance.

Samuel ministered at a time when the prophet could also serve as judge. He provided mediated leadership for the children of the covenant. His tenure is reaching its conclusion, and he has decided to pass the leadership mantle unto his sons. The anticipated transition seems to prompt the pleas from the people:

First Samuel 7 shows that Samuel has succeeded in the way that counts for a judge. Under his leadership, the Philistines are defeated. He does this, however, not by military power, but by exercising his priestly office and offering a sacrifice. Now, once more, there is a problem of succession. Samuel is in the same situation as Eli. His sons are worthless, yet, despite this, he names them as his successors. At this, the people protest and ask for a king “like other nations” (8:4). Samuel takes his resentment at this to God, who agrees to the demand, but with a warning. The warning in 8:8–18 is Samuel’s, however, not God’s. (Hugh S. Pyper)

The irony is that Samuel benefited from a parent-child relationship with Eli, who passed his wisdom and vocation onto Samuel who fit the role more than his biological children. We might think that Samuel would have recognized the similarities and understood that his children were not fit to succeed his leadership. Samuel appears to be oblivious to their shortcomings and the anxiety that the people would have at being under their domain.

How often do we want something so much that the warning signs go unnoticed or ignored? The very thing that Samuel suggests the people are doing also manifests in his behavior. He resents their desire for a king which he rightly interprets as a repudiation of his succession plan, but the people weren’t wrong to do the latter even if their proposed solution is questionable. It’s an unanticipated vulnerability because the prophet functions from his point of unresolved pain. Notice that while the Holy One tries to console Samuel that the rejection is ultimately targeted at God, Samuel never acknowledges that. He obeys the command to tell the people how this king they ask for will rule, but he adds to the pronouncement and claims that after they suffer the consequences of poor leadership that God will not answer.

Did God say that? Or, was that a not-so-hidden dig that the wounded prophet charged at the people so that they would bleed too? Hurt people hurt people. Unresolved pain, bitterness, and resentment comes up and out at this moment. Samuel doesn’t want God’s consolation for himself…or for his people, he wants God’s harsh judgement and condemnation on the people. He wants them to feel–preemptively–rejected by God as he feels rejected by them. Grace is so much easier to receive for ourselves but harder to accept when it’s extended toward others.

Most of us look at this passage as a cautionary tale, and it is. But the people’s desire for a king is not the only thing worthy of warning. Samuel’s desire to, in effect, be a king also deserves a wary response. Judges and prophets did not assume family succession and transfer of authority or gifts. That’s a feature of the monarchy, and it would have been familiar to the people who wanted a human ruler like their neighboring nations. While their requests served as a rejection of God, it does so in a surprising way. Jonathan Walton contends that they were not suggesting that a human monarch supplant the sovereignty of God as secular nations weren’t prevalent during their time:

This interpretation might be possible, except that the request has a specific context: the elders want a king like the nations. While “secular” government is normative in the modem world, it is un- known to ancient Israel and her neighbors; all of the “nations” are fully theocratic.

They still wanted their God, but they were also asking for different leadership than Samuel planned. Their rejection of God results from not trusting God to determine the nature of their human leadership and to honor the covenant no matter who sits in a human position of authority. Ultimately, they don’t want a king like other kings…they want a God like other gods:

It is necessarily true that whatever Israel is “rejecting” must be something that orthodox Israel possesses that the nations do not. I would instead prefer an interpretation as follows: “Give us a king [who is] like [the kind that] the other nations [have, who will serve the same functions in the same manner as theirs]”. This interpretation sees a new dynamic in the way that Israel as a nation, via its leader, relates to its God. Specifically, it reflects a theology reminiscent of the ancient Near Eastern nations they wish to emulate. By asking for a king “like the nations”, they reflect their desire for a God “like the nations”; implicitly, instead of the God they have. It is this rejection of [God’s] identity that causes him to say, “they have rejected me”. (Jonathan Walton)

Their problem is not that they will be subjected to unethical leadership, it is that they do not believe that the God who initiates and renews the covenant will honor that abiding promise through this turn in their history.

God does not deny or ignore the cry of the people. In fact, God agrees to their request. Yes, that consent comes with a warning that they will not benefit from the new king’s leadership, but that message does not reject them. How often has the church supplied condemnation when God has granted acceptance? How often do we add a point to the divine message that arose from our feelings rather than holy prophecy?

Prophets are often called to identify personally with the response of the Holy One like Hosea who experienced the pain of infidelity in marriage akin to the unfaithful response of the people who continually broke their covenant with God. In some ways, Samuel resembles Moses, who after a lifetime of faithful ministry ends on a bitter note and responds to the willfulness of those under his guidance as a personal affront rather than as one representing their relationship with God.

We are called into relationship with God and with one another, and human beings will disappoint one another. We let one another down. We make mistakes, we don’t communicate clearly, and we can cause hurt and harm. Samuel assumed their rejection of his sons as leaders was a rejection of him and his leadership. It may have been the opposite, an attempt to maintain the legacy of his strong, capable, and compassionate governance.

Samuel doesn’t enter into his own weakness and examine his response to their request. As a result, he makes a pronouncement that only confirms what they fear. What if he had said all the same things about the coming king but ended with the assurance of God’s abiding presence and commitment to the covenant? He could have ended with an invitation and not a curse.

There have been so many groups of people, beloved by God, who have been cursed by those claiming to speak for God. Those words resonate in the spirits of those who hear them and those who hear about them. In a time, when divisiveness is glorified in our public discourse, are we not called to assure the world that there is a better way? Are we not also called to process our own hurt in constructive and fruitful ways so that when we speak…good news pours forth from our mouths?

It’s understandable that Samuel felt hurt, but there’s nothing prophetic about deliberately inflicting harm on others from that hurt. Samuel could have used his vulnerability to empathize with them, to process the uncertainty together, and to arrive at a place of trust in the God who consoles, who covenants, and who you can see coming.

A Bible study version of this reflection is at Weekly Seeds.

Mark 3:20–35