Sermon Transcript: October 20, 2024
Our reading today comes from 2 Samuel. Just to give us a little bit of context: last week, we read from the book of 1 Samuel. This is a period of time in Israel’s history when they have been liberated from slavery in Egypt, they have made it through the wilderness with Moses, they have established themselves in the Promised Land.
For the first period, when they are in the Promised Land, they are ruled by judges. Those are local authorities who have a less formal power structure to make decisions and resolve conflicts between people. But the people of Israel are restless. They see the nations around them, and what they really want is a king. They would really like to be like the other nations and be ruled over by a king.
And God says, “I don’t know that you really want that. I know you think you want that, but it’s not going to work out the way you think.” But the people insist, and so God says, “OK.”
Last week, we heard the story of Hannah and her prayer about our ideas of the world and power being turned upside down. We also heard that she gave birth to a son, Samuel. Samuel is one of the first prophets of Israel and comes along at a time when the first king is being anointed— that king being Saul. Saul kind of immediately proves God’s point. He rules with a heavy hand, the people are kind of miserable, and he is not faithful. So, God begins to come up with another plan and says to Samuel, “You’re going to help me find another king.”
They go out, and God says to find him among the sons of Jesse. Do you all remember this? The sons of Jesse—they’re all these strapping young men, the brightest, the bravest, the brawniest of them all. And kind of like the sorting scene in Harry Potter, where the hat goes over their heads—except in this case, you’re not being sorted into different houses. It’s just a “yes” or a “no.”
Samuel goes over each one of them, and it’s: “No, not this one. No, not this one.” He gets through all the sons Jesse has brought forward, and he says, “God said it’s going to be among them, but it’s been a ‘no’ for all of them.” And then they say, “Oh, well, there’s one more, but he’s out in the field. It couldn’t possibly be David; he’s just a little runt.” Of course, it is David.
Then there’s this period of time where Saul is still king, yet David has been chosen to be the next king. Eventually, Saul dies, David takes over, and things are a lot different. Things start going well. In fact, they start going very, very well.
And that is the point where we pick up today in 2 Samuel 7. David is king over Israel, things are going well for Israel, and things are going very, very well for David.
2 Samuel 7: 1-17:
“Now when King David was settled in his house, and the Lord had given him rest from all his enemies around him”—meaning no more wars—”the king said to the prophet Nathan, ‘See now, I am living in a house of cedar, but the ark of God stays in a tent.’ Nathan said to the king, ‘Go, do all that you have in mind, for the Lord is with you.’
But that same night, the word of the Lord came to Nathan: ‘Go and tell my servant David, “Thus says the Lord: Are you the one to build me a house to live in? I have not lived in a house since the day I brought up the people of Israel to this day, but I have been moving about in a tent and a tabernacle. Wherever I have moved among all the people of Israel, did I ever speak a word with any of the tribal leaders of Israel, whom I commanded to shepherd my people Israel, saying, ‘Why have you not built me a house of cedar?’
Now, therefore, thus you shall say to my servant David: “Thus says the Lord of hosts: I took you from the pasture, from following the sheep, to be prince over my people Israel. I have been with you wherever you went and have cut off all your enemies from before you. And I will make for you a great name, like the name of the great ones of the earth. I will appoint a place for my people Israel and will plant them so that they may live in their own place and be disturbed no more. Evildoers shall afflict them no more, as formerly, from the time that I appointed judges over my people Israel. I will give you rest from all your enemies.
Moreover, the Lord declares to you that the Lord will make you a house. When your days are fulfilled and you lie down with your ancestors, I will raise up your offspring after you, who shall come forth from your body, and I will establish his kingdom. He shall build a house for my name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever. I will be a father to him, and he shall be a son to me. When he commits iniquity, I will punish him with a rod such as mortals use, with blows inflicted by human beings. But I will not take my steadfast love from him, as I took it from Saul, whom I put away before you. Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me; your throne shall be established forever.”‘”
In accordance with all these words and with all this vision, Nathan spoke to David.
For the Word of God in Scripture, for the Word of God among us, for the Word of God within us. Thanks be to God.
You know, it’s right when we are on the verge of getting everything that we’ve ever wanted—when we are at that pinnacle of achievement—that we just may be at our most vulnerable. You see, the problem with getting everything you ever wanted is that we begin to think that we deserve it. We may take for granted all the support and hard work of others that have boosted us along the way, or, if not completely take it for granted, we certainly downplay their role. We forget the good turns of fortune that easily could have gone the other way, and we think that we are special—not in the “each of us is unique and valuable” way, but in the “I am better than others” way.
We may even begin to, ever so subtly, look down on others, thinking or even saying aloud, “Well, they just must be lazy. If they would just work harder, if they would just follow my example of perseverance, they too could achieve all that I have achieved.”
Take King David. Things could not possibly be going any better, and they are right at the moment we read in our text today. He’s been anointed king. He has been victorious in battle. He has established a new capital in Jerusalem. He has made himself a palace. Everything he could ever want or dream of is right in front of him. His prophet, Nathan, even says to him, “Go, do all that you have in mind. Clearly the Lord is with you.” In other words, David, you’re on a roll. You can do no wrong.
David has reached that point that you and I dream about. You know the one I mean—the one that always seems just a little bit out of reach, the “I’ll get to it” point. Personally, I think of it as “I’ll write my novel when I get all these other things done.” But whatever it is for you—whatever’s on that list, right?—it just seems to grow. There always seems to be more to do. For every one thing you check off, somehow two or three more appear.
But David—David has done it. He has checked every box. Well, every box except one. Now that he has solidified his legacy, established his own political and military might, made sure he has his own palace, he’s ready to build a temple for the Lord. David has vanquished Israel’s enemies, but the Lord is still dwelling in a tent, in the Ark of the Covenant, in the tabernacle that moves from place to place. The dwelling place for the divine is still in a temporary shelter. That made sense when the people were on the move, winding through the wilderness, but now they have secured their own land. Now the king has his own palace, and it only seems right for him to build a house for God as well.
But our text takes a surprising turn. Instead of God being grateful—instead of God saying, “Wow, David, that’s a great idea! I would love to have a temple!”—God says, “No thank you. I’m not interested.”
What???
Jacqueline Lapsley writes, “God rebuffs David on this point, implicitly reordering the hierarchy of grace. It is not for David to act as a benefactor for God, building God a house. Rather, it is God who will act faithfully to David in building him a different kind of house. The Hebrew writer plays on the word ‘house’ here. God is not going to build David a structure, but rather a dynasty—a succession of leaders who will guide God’s people in an ongoing, gracious, covenantal relationship with God.”
It is kind of the ultimate give and take. As God is telling David that he will establish a dynasty of his ancestors, He also tells him that it will be his son who will actually build the temple for God and be remembered for it for generations and generations. That’s the glory David wants for himself, and he can see it right in front of him. But God says, “Nope, not for you to do. Guess what? I’m going to give it to your son.”
The hierarchy of grace.
David has suffered from success for so long, he thinks he deserves it. He forgets that it was God who, through Samuel, first chose him—the unlikeliest of candidates. God chose David, not the other way around. David acts as if he is doing God a favor. But God’s “no” puts things back in their proper order. David does not decide for God where God will reside. God and God alone picks where God will live, who God favors, and who God loves.
We love to pick all of this stuff for God, right? “Guess what, God? This is who you love. Oh, you don’t love them? No.”
The hierarchy of grace. God loves who God will love. And it is we who have to adjust.
William Sloane Coffin writes of God’s love, “We can say two things: it is poured out universally for everyone, from the Pope to the loneliest wino on the planet. And secondly, God’s love does not seek value; it creates value. It is not because we have value that we are loved, but because we are loved that we have value.”
Our value is a gift. It is not an achievement. Or, more precisely, as scripture says, “We love because God first loved us.” It is God who loves us into loving. This has been our theme for this fall: “God loves us into loving.” This is a fundamental truth of our faith, but we easily forget it because we’re constantly bombarded with the message that we are not enough, that we are not worthy of love, that we always have to do more to achieve more, to produce more, that there is something fundamentally wrong with us that makes us somehow unlovable, that we have to do something to be worthy of God’s love.
But like David, who forgot the hierarchy of God’s grace in the midst of his success, we too think that something we do precipitates God’s love for us.
Richard Rohr puts it this way: “Most of us were taught that God would love us if and when we change. But in fact, God loves us so that we can change. What empowers change, what makes you desirous of change, is the experience of love. It is that inherent experience of love that becomes the engine of change.” It is God who loves us into loving.
Just as God rebuffs David’s offer to build a dwelling for God, God rebuffs all of our attempts to earn or make it so that we think we deserve God’s love or grace. But God does not want a temple made of cedar, or a cathedral, or a church made of stone. There is but one place and only one place that God wants to dwell: and that is in our hearts.
Amen.
