Weekly Seeds: For Redemption

Sunday, August 11, 2024
Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost | Year B

Focus Theme:
For Redemption

Focus Prayer:
Holy Redeemer, we seek your steadfast love as recipients and givers. Amen.

Focus Reading:
2 Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-33 
⁵ The king ordered Joab and Abishai and Ittai, saying, “Deal gently for my sake with the young man Absalom.” And all the people heard when the king gave orders to all the commanders concerning Absalom. 
⁶ So the army went out into the field against Israel, and the battle was fought in the forest of Ephraim. ⁷ The men of Israel were defeated there by the servants of David, and the slaughter there was great on that day, twenty thousand men. ⁸ The battle spread over the face of all the country, and the forest claimed more victims that day than the sword. 
⁹ Absalom happened to meet the servants of David. Absalom was riding on his mule, and the mule went under the thick branches of a great oak. His head caught fast in the oak, and he was left hanging between heaven and earth, while the mule that was under him went on.
¹⁵ And ten young men, Joab’s armor-bearers, surrounded Absalom and struck him and killed him. 
³¹ Then the Cushite came, and the Cushite said, “Good tidings for my lord the king! For the Lord has vindicated you this day, delivering you from the power of all who rose up against you.” ³² The king said to the Cushite, “Is it well with the young man Absalom?” The Cushite answered, “May the enemies of my lord the king and all who rise up to do you harm be like that young man.” 
³³ The king was deeply moved and went up to the chamber over the gate and wept, and as he went he said, “O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son!”

Psalm 130
¹ Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord.
² Lord, hear my voice!
Let your ears be attentive
to the voice of my supplications!
³ If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities,
Lord, who could stand?
⁴ But there is forgiveness with you,
so that you may be revered.
⁵ I wait for the Lord; my soul waits,
and in his word I hope;
⁶ my soul waits for the Lord
more than those who watch for the morning,
more than those who watch for the morning.
⁷ O Israel, hope in the Lord!
For with the Lord there is steadfast love,
and with him is great power to redeem.
⁸ It is he who will redeem Israel
from all its iniquities.

All readings for this Sunday:
2 Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-33 and Psalm 130 • 1 Kings 19:4-8 and Psalm 34:1-8 • Ephesians 4:25-5:2 • John 6:35, 41-51

Focus Questions:
What is redemption?
How does redemption differ from mercy, compassion, and forgiveness?
Can violence be redeemed?
What examples of redemption can we cite from human history?
What can we identify in contemporary society and culture needs redeeming?

Reflection
By Cheryl A. Lindsay

The king has a peculiar request. Deal gently, he asks, with my son. As a parent, it makes sense to ask for someone to treat your child well. This parent, however, was a king and one known for waging war on others. He dealt aggressively with others, and this directive is being made to commanders of his forces not to relatives, friends, or even neutral strangers. He’s asking for preferential treatment for one among thousands. It makes one wonder why he would even send him among the troops if he were so concerned with his welfare. Of course, David does not send his son. His son comes as his enemy, waging war against his father and his father’s army.

Human beings often do nonsensical things and irrational actions. Redemption offers a hope that all those mistakes, mishaps, and misunderstandings cannot only be overcome but may also be salvaged for good purposes. In his commentary on the text, Walter Brueggemann notes that David is portrayed with all his complexity; his vulnerability as a father is not concealed behind a false bravado or a contrived strength. David is a father and has a parent’s concern, which he freely reveals.

The fighting took place over a wide area of countryside, in a mixture of trees and tangled undergrowth in craggy terrain. There was little to sustain life if supplies were cut off and plenty of pitfalls to trap the unwary. It was not a matter of two forces meeting head on but of smaller groups battling in separated situations. In this context the trained men would have a tremendous advantage. The army of Israel, that is, the tribal forces assembled at Absalom’s call, was defeated. There were mass casualties. Many were killed in the fighting, but a greater number died because they were ill-equipped to survive in that kind of terrain. Absalom’s ambitions to bring glory to the land and solve all the people’s problems (15:4) had brought only conflict and death.
Mary J. Evans

The text exposes violence and its terrible costs. Further, this is not an isolated incident but one in a string of countless battles. The king has become so desensitized to it that the psalmist within him seems to have disappeared. The commander is in charge and only allows the father a moment to emerge with that simple plea requesting gentleness for his son. Of course, the most violent aspect of the story may be that his son is his adversary, and the request, while understandable, could not possibly be honored. The violence is to the soul of a fighter who will not enter this battle and can only cling to hope that this army will display the same care toward his son that he himself extended to his predecessor Saul.

David has only one piece of advice for his troops (v. 5). As the three commanders are about to be dismissed for action by David the commander-in-chief, David the father addresses his troops. Up to verse 5, we have been watching David’s nervy strategy, but we have been given no glimpse into David’s sensibility as he struggles with a coup led by his own son. Obviously David wants the coup defeated, in order to retain his throne. Now, however, the father speaks. It is David’s yearning desire that the coup be settled decisively, but without damage to his son who leads it. That is a tall and difficult order. After his hardness and clarity, David speaks almost pleadingly to his hardened commanders. “Deal gently” (v. 5), not harshly, not cruelly, not with vengeance. In that moment the narrator perhaps wants us to remember with David that Saul went berserk when he found his own son against him (I Sam. 20:30–33). David does not go beserk, but he yearns powerfully against his obvious best interest as the king. David’s terse and seemingly simple address in verse 5 is an intensely freighted statement. Two things strike us about his statement. First, he does not name Absalom as his son, but only as “the young man.” It is as though David is reticent about identifying the relationship too directly. Perhaps there is an intended distance to control the pathos. Second, it is to be done “for my sake,” not for the sake of the son. The narrative is cast with attention turned completely away from Absalom to David. Even as the son of the king, the narrative has no interest in Absalom or sympathy for him. What counts is David’s yearning to be a father and to have his fatherly sensitivity taken seriously. David avoids any direct expression of fatherhood and sonship. Of course the characters in the narrative (and we) are aware of this bonding of father and son (14:1). The narrative, however, offers no such words at this point. This is a commander who must have the coup smashed. In the mouth of the commander, the father speaks, but with restraint and with control. The people hear the imperative of the king, and so does Joab! The imperative “Deal gently” is terse and not without ambivalence. We cannot be sure what this means in the mouth of the commander who is a father, on the lips of a father who is the commander. We do not know if the words are ironic or direct. As the narrative unfolds, we shall see that more than one reading is given to the command of the father-king. In that simple imperative are held together the requirements of state and the yearnings of a father. In the event itself, the king-father is removed and another, Joab, will give the reading of David’s words that finally counts.
Walter Brueggemann

Against this text, the lectionary provides a psalm that is not of David. It is perhaps fitting that another’s words express the contrition, remorse, and repentance that the king, who cries out to his dead son but not God, seems unable to express. So many psalms ask the Holy One not to turn from God’s people; David needs a reminder not to turn from his God. He has been engulfed by violence, and violence offers no comfort as it only takes never gives. David—warrior, father, king, commander, worshipper—has forgotten how to pray. He is lost and broken, and the text ends without resolution, restoration, or redemption.

Yet, the psalm offers a word of encouragement to continue to wait with hope. God hears those repentant cries and does not keep score of wrongdoing. God is forgiving, merciful, and redemptive. The psalmist insists that the people trust, hope, and wait based on the character of God.

At the same time, the juxtaposition of these texts proves troubling. Why does God allow and even participate in violence? Daniel Hawk suggests that readers not dismiss this participation but consider it contextually. He writes, “As a whole, the narrative portrays God’s participation in violence as a consequence of God’s decision to enter a violence-saturated world to work with human partners within it.” Human violence imposes itself upon a God whose covenantal commitments obligate the Holy One’s presence and influence if not approval.

Where is the redemption in this story? It’s not in the text from 2 Samuel; it is only broadly presented as a possibility in the psalm. Perhaps it comes in recognizing the horrible costs of violence and turning away from it in horror, grief, and longing for a new way. And perhaps it rests in the assurance of knowing that like David, the Holy One witnessed his Son sent into a violent world with the impossible hope that it would deal gently with him.

Here we are, Holy One, praying for redemption.