The Winds of Change: David the Peacemaker

Sermon text for May 25, 2008:
II Samuel 5:1-5, 9-10

The winds of change are blowing continuously over the Land of the Chosen People. Samuel is dead, as is King Saul and his son Jonathon. David has assumed power over the southern tribes, but the Kingdom is not yet united. Only David’s strong leadership made the eventual unification of the Kingdom possible. And only Solomon’s charisma kept the nation together. And when Solomon died, the nation divided once again.

In today’s story, David is King of the southern tribes and the elders from the north invite him to rule over them as well. But there was a terrible struggle before the northern elders offered national unification.

After the death of Saul and Jonathan, the throne was assumed by another of Saul’s children, a man named Ish bo sheth. He fought hard to hold onto his father’s throne. The Bible tells us that there was a protracted war between the House of David and the House of Saul, and that as David grew stronger, Saul’s son grew weaker.

There is little doubt that David could have crushed the house of Saul almost at will, but he chose to fight with one arm tied behind his back. He did not want to destroy Saul’s son for the same reason he didn’t kill Saul. David had respect for the family of God’s anointed, and he realized that killing Ish bo sheth would galvanize the northern tribes against him. And under these conditions, David would never be able to rule over a unified nation. It turns out that David the warrior is also a diplomat and peacemaker.

Saul’s death began David’s ascendancy over Israel. When Saul died, the southern tribes made David king almost immediately. And when Ish bo sheth died, the unification of the nation became possible. Ish bo sheth was killed by assassins who crept into his house in the middle of the night and beheaded him while he slept. They carried his head to David hoping for a reward.

But David was not pleased. He mourned publicly for Saul’s son as he had mourned for Saul himself. And the assassins paid for their treachery with their own lives.

After a time of mourning, the elders of the north invited David to rule over them also. They said to him, “Behold, we are your bone and flesh. Even when Saul was king over us it was you that led out and brought Israel in; and the Lord said to you. ‘You shall be shepherd of my people Israel, and you shall be prince over Israel.’”

With these words, the elders recognize the importance of Israel’s unity and that David, as God’s anointed, was always Israel’s true military leader. So the circle is complete. The shepherd boy has become the shepherd king, charged with the well being of a nation. But notice that the elders from the north did not call David “king”, they called him “Prince over Israel”. Perhaps this is a faith statement that God is the ultimate ruler. So no human being can be more than a prince. Or perhaps the elders are saying, “You can rule, David, but don’t get a swelled head. You are not all that!”

David, the man of God, became the catalyst that drew opposing tribes together. David and the elders made a covenant with one another and David was anointed king for the third time. Only this time, he united a kingdom.

Now that the kingdom was united it needed a capitol city with which neither of the opposing sides identified. And David chose the neutral City of Jerusalem to be that capitol. The City was so well fortified that it was thought to be invulnerable from attack. But David and his mercenaries entered Jerusalem through the water system and conquered the city that has been known ever since as the City of David.

As we search this story for meaning in our lives, I am struck by the idea that God’s “chosen one” can bring peace to warring parties. It is an intriguing idea in this world of conflict. Even in the very personal arenas of family and faith, I see people pull away from one another because there is nothing, and no one, who holds people together.

A husband and wife were at each other’s throats again. It was nothing new; they’d been fighting for a long time. Though neither of them could see it, the real problem was that each wanted to be in charge. Each one had to have things his or her own way, and over time their positions began to solidify. It became a matter of principle not to give in.

One day the fight seemed even more hurtful than usual and the husband stalked off to the bedroom and shut the door. The shut door was like a red flag to his wife who waited only briefly before she burst into the room to prove that he couldn’t walk away from her in a fight. She was amazed to see her husband kneeling beside the bed, hands clasped together, head bowed in prayer. Instead of attacking, she joined him at the beside, and in prayer each remembered the man of God’s own choosing who was Lord of their marriage and of their household. By focusing on Him, neither felt the need to out maneuver the other and be in charge. It was the beginning of peace for the family.

Several years ago there was a feud between the Moderator of General Assembly and the Stated Clerk of the Assembly, the two highest elected officials in the Church. The feud continued for several months and became destructive to the whole Church. Each man needed to be in charge, to be the boss. Just before the annual Assembly convened, other leaders of the Church took the Moderator and Clerk into a room and told them to pray for each other, and not to come out until the feud was over. Prayer brought reconciliation and ended the feud.

Not long ago I was asked to help mediate a dispute between a pastor and several members of a session. Charges and counter charges had been flying around for months before we were asked to help. Each party to the dispute needed to prove himself right, and the other wrong, which is a formula for defeat. We brought pastor and session together around the table and structured things so that each one could be heard without interruption or contradiction. At the end of our meeting, each one was invited to pray for the other and to recognize that neither one was in charge – Christ was. We do not know yet how things will turn out, but if each one chooses to let Jesus be in charge, healing is possible.

Christians believe that no one of us needs to be the boss. That job is already taken. The One who brings peace in families, also brings peace to congregations, and even within denominations when those who disagree honestly join one another in prayer.

Like David, Jesus is the anointed one of God, the man of God’s own choosing. As David the shepherd boy became the shepherd of the nation, the baby born in the stable is the shepherd of all who want to be his sheep. If there is any hope for peace in families’, communities, and congregations, it is allowing the Man of God’s own choosing to be in charge. He calls us together and helps us to know that we belong to one another.

Copyright © 2008 by Dwight R. Blackstock

The Winds of Change: Like the Sound of a Mighty Wind

Sermon text for May 11, 2008:
Joel 2:15-29, Acts 2

“Wind, wind, blow on me. Wind, wind, set me free. Wind, wind, the Father sent the blessed Holy Spirit.” It is a song of Pentecost. Here is another: “Spirit, Spirit of gentleness; blow through the wilderness calling and free. Spirit, spirit of restlessness; stir me from placidness; wind, wind on the sea.”

For several weeks our sermons have centered on what I call the “winds of change.” In scripture the word “wind” is almost always synonymous with “breath” and “spirit” and in Hebrew the word also means “storm.” Think of how different the second verse in Genesis sounds if we translate “Spirit” as “Storm.” “The Spirit of God was moving over the face of the water.” Or, “The storm of God was moving over the face of the water.” Read one way the verse sounds gentle and read another way we hear hurricanes and cyclones pounding the world into shape. The winds of change are blowing relentlessly, continuing the process of creation.

As today’s passage from Acts begins, the disciples are in the upper room hiding and waiting on God to send the Holy Spirit. One of the last things Jesus said to them was, “You shall receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you.” Little did they know that the Storm of God was about to change their lives forever. The cyclone that is God’s Spirit would literally blow them to all parts of the known world. On the day that the cyclone hit, the disciples are behind locked doors. They are depressed and grieving and feel as if someone has drained them of all of their strength. While Jesus was with them, he was their strength, but now he is gone and the disciples are completely depleted.

In my imagination I can see the disciples huddled together in a darkened room. The door is bolted and the windows are covered. The darkness is soothing to the depressed disciples. Perhaps there is a small lamp on the table that offers just enough light. Some of the disciples are praying, others are daydreaming, while others are remembering the good old days when they made a living on the Sea of Galilee.

Suddenly the quiet is shattered by a frightening noise; it is like the sound of a tornado, a cyclone, a hurricane – all in one horrendous noise. And the winds of change literally blew the disciples out the door and into the street. In that moment the world changed forever – it was not only the disciples’ lives that changed, but rather the whole world. In that moment God unleashed the Holy Spirit on common folks and the Spirit can never again be contained.

On the day that God’s Spirit was unleashed, Jerusalem was filled with pilgrims who had come to the holy city for Pentecost. They heard the sound like the sound of a mighty wind and they rushed toward the sound to see what was happening. What they saw was a kind of controlled pandemonium. The disciples were telling the story of Jesus in a variety of languages so that everyone could hear and understand.

Of course, not everyone was impressed. To some, the disciples appeared drunk, but Peter quickly put the experience into a biblical context. “This is to fulfill what was spoken by the Prophet,” said Peter. “It will come to pass afterward that I will pour out my spirit on all flesh; your sons and your daughters shall prophesy; your old men shall dream dreams and your young men shall see visions. Even upon the menservants and maidservants in those days, I will pour out my spirit.”

God never breathes on people except to give some gift to the church. When the wind of God filled the room where the disciples were staying it was so the thousands of pilgrims in Jerusalem would hear about Jesus and carry the story to their friends back home. The story continues and winds of change are still blowing. The cyclone of God’s breath continues to mold and shape the Church into God’s own image.

I believe that God sends the Spirit today to give the faithful the ability to dream the dreams of things that never were; and imagine a future that is impossible apart from the power of God.

Who are the dreamers in this congregation? Who are the ones who dare to have visions of what you and God might accomplish if you surrender to God? I wonder if you have a dream for the Church which you are afraid to share. Sharing is frightening, it means being vulnerable and trusting others to not reject you. Maybe you need to learn how to be vulnerable to one another, so that dreams and visions can be shared.

Maybe you have never shared your dreams with one another because no one has ever told you it is okay to dream. Dreams are one of the ways God communicates with us. God’s storm is blowing in this congregation. It is the storm of love, inspiration, vision and dreams. It is the storm of creation and change. All that you need to do is surrender to God’s will. A hymn says, “I surrender all. I surrender all. All to you my precious savior, I surrender all.” The wind is blowing your way. Surrender to the power of God.

Copyright © 2008 by Dwight R. Blackstock

The Winds of Change: How The Mighty Have Fallen

Sermon text for May 4, 2008:
II Samuel 1:1, 17-27

The winds of change blew hot over the land of Israel, changing the social and political landscape and shaping the people’s lives. Soon, there would be a change of power and Israel would enter into a golden age that will always be remembered as its finest hour, but first there was tragedy.

The armies of Israel and the Philistines were locked in their perpetual state of war. King Saul is in the thick of the battle as is his son, Jonathan. The Philistine army caught up with Saul and Jonathan on Mt. Gilboa. Jonathan was killed by the Philistines, and Saul, already mortally wounded, fell on his own sword so that his enemies would not have the satisfaction of killing him.

And so the winds of change began to blow on David, who was not a part of Saul’s army. Earlier, Saul, in a fit of insanity, declared David persona non grata and tried to pin him to a wall with his spear. So David kept his distance from the King. He only heard of Israel’s defeat and the death of Saul and Jonathan when a messenger brought him word. He carried Saul’s crown and amulet as proof that he was dead. We might think that David would be overjoyed with Saul’s death, but he wasn’t.

Instead of rejoicing, David fell into deep and prolonged grief. While Saul was David’s enemy, he was still the anointed one of God and if for no other reason than that, he deserved honor. David was once a part of Saul’s household and knew the King intimately. He was able to separate his paranoia from the more healthy aspects of his personality. Saul’s meanness and treachery were not as important as his contributions to the nation. And so David set aside his own succession to the throne and led the nation in a time of mourning.

In the poem we read this morning, David describes Saul and Jonathan as the “Glory of Israel” and laments, “How the mighty have fallen.” David asks the nation to remember Saul and Jonathan as the mighty warriors they were. He provides word pictures of Saul’s sword drawing the blood of his enemies, while Jonathan’s arrows pierce his enemy’s fat.

Saul and Jonathan take on almost epic proportions as they are described as beloved and lovely standing together in life and in death. How the mighty have fallen.

David’s grief is not only public, it is also very private, for Jonathan was closer to David than any one else in the world. He was so close that David says that his love was more pleasant to him even than the love of his wife. David’s private sorrow was expressed in a very public way. His ability to grieve allowed the nation to grieve and ultimately to heal.

I wonder about our ability to grieve either publicly or privately. We are from tough stock and to some, prolonged grieving seems like weakness. We are supposed to suck it up, get tough, and move on. The only problem with that is that it doesn’t work. If we do not take time to grieve, our grief will make us sick. I remember visiting a woman in a psychiatric hospital. All during our conversation she continued to weep. Because of her breakdown she could no longer pretend to be tough. She was mourning the death of her father who died many years before. “I didn’t have time to grieve after he died” she told me. “I had a lot of responsibilities then so I just kept on going.” But grief unexpressed found a way to stop her many years later. Unfortunately some of us refuse to grieve because it seems like weakness or even a lack of faith.

If we can’t grieve personally, it becomes even harder to grieve openly and corporately. I wonder if you have found a constructive way to grieve the losses you have endured as a congregation. Did someone tell you when pastors left under a cloud, and friends left the church, that you simply had to get tough and get on with business? I wonder. My suspicion is that you are still grieving.

I also wonder if some of the ills we see in our nation are the result of not having someone like David to help us mourn the loss of the American dream, or our supposed invulnerability to foreign attack.

Some years ago my family and I went to Washington D.C. I have been to D.C. many times and am always thrilled to stand in the shrines memorializing great America leaders. But I was caught completely by surprise at the Viet Nam War Memorial. I had never seen it before and as we walked down the rows of names of the dead I discovered tears running down my cheeks. I remembered the nightly body counts, the hurt soldiers returning home to an unwelcoming nation. As I cried, I realized that there was no one to help us mourn for the dead or for the living who were still wounded. Instead we moved on, glad to put an unpopular war behind us. How the mighty have fallen.

I wish to God that America had a David who could lead us in grief, who could call us to remember the slain and the wounded, and feel our sorrow in a constructive way. Then perhaps like Israel under a new King, we might move into a golden era of our own.

Copyright © 2008 by Dwight R. Blackstock