An Untouchable God?
Sermon
ORDINARY PEOPLE, EXTRAORDINARY GOD
Sermons For Sundays After Pentecost
The story of the ark's removal to Jerusalem is vintage Old Testament so far as most of us are concerned. It features a storm-and-battle God, fearful and yet rejoicing believers, and a great deal of religious uncertainty. Reading it from the vantage point of the latter years of the Twentieth Century, we are apt to question its relevance for our day. But let's not write it off with undue haste. We are never quite as sophisticated as we think we are and, inversely, the pioneers of faith are never quite as simple-minded as we might be led to believe.
Some Background
The ark, you will recall, was a representation of the presence of God. Writes Norman Gottwald, "The ark was a portable box, probably representing an imageless throne. It accompanied the Hebrews in their wanderings and went with them into battle." (A Light To The Nations, p. 143) It is the removal of this object by David to Jerusalem that sets the stage for this drama.
We need also to remember that whenever this ark was to be removed, there was a ritual associated with that removal. This ritual is described in Numbers 4. But what, specifically, we need to remember in understanding this intriguing drama from 2 Samuel is that the carrying of this ark was understood to be an exceedingly holy activity which, if not done according to the prescribed methods, would result in the death of any who violated those methods.
Describing the duties of the Levite clan of Kohat, the group charged with carrying the ark, two verses from Numbers 4 will give us a sense for the gravity that was to accompany the discharge of this responsibility:
Their service involves the most holy things.
(Numbers 4:4)
The Kohath clan must not touch the sacred objects, or they will die.
(Numbers 4:15)
The Unfolding Drama
David and a large company of people are dancing and singing as the ark is being moved along toward Jerusalem. Two chaps, Uzzah and Ahio, are guiding it along when the oxen pulling it stumble. Uzzah reaches out to steady the ark and suddenly dies. That death is attributed to God: "At once the Lord God became angry with Uzzah and killed him because of his irreverence." (2 Samuel 6:7 TEV)
Keeping in mind what we have said about the utter seriousness involved in moving the ark, place yourself in Uzzah's sandals for a moment. If you were told that the object you were going to move was tantamount to moving God, or the residence God inhabited, and if further you were told that under no circumstances were you to touch God's abode, and then, through no fault of your own, saw that abode beginning to fall to the ground and involuntarily reached out to steady it -- as you would any other falling object -- wouldn't that be for you an exceedingly charged moment? Uzzah probably had a heart attack. Severe shocks can do that to people; that's been documented.
A friend once showed me an envelope that was addressed by George Washington. His name was written on the front, and on the back of it he had written a message. My friend took it out of its protective shield and as I held it, I felt as though I had something very valuable in my hand and thought how tragic it would be were I to accidentally tear it or in some other way damage it. Indeed, it was valuable, many thousands of dollars valuable, and my friend indicated that were his father to need long-term nursing home care, the price fetched by this envelope would probably largely cover the cost of that care.
It was an unusual feeling to hold and touch that envelope, almost as though through it old George and I met. Magnify those feelings trillions of times and you can gain a sense of how Uzzah might have felt when he thought he had done the forbidden and virtually touched God!
His death, of course, is attributed to God. David becomes furious. The holy becomes too hot to handle and the ark is left along the roadside at the house of Obed Edom.
How often we are quick to place this interpretation on circumstances. Years back, a woman in one of my congregations came to me because she was troubled by the ill health of one of her children, a daughter. She had been thirty-seven when this daughter was born and the pregnancy was not a welcome one. As she tells it, her physician and friends denied her the right to her unhappy feelings. The physician told her the child would be a comfort to her in later years. The daughter developed a diabetic condition and this was naturally a source of worriment for the woman. But it was more than normal worriment.
It happened that this woman had a friend who also had a daughter when she was thirty-seven years old. This friend had not wanted to be pregnant either and at nineteen her daughter had died of leukemia, and it was her mother's contention that the child's death represented the punishment of God for the unhappy feelings she had about being pregnant nineteen years before. The woman in my congregation saw these as parallel circumstances and thought that her child would die, too, when she turned nineteen, again as punishment from God for not wanting to be pregnant with this daughter years before. What a tremendous -- and I would add emphatically unnecessary -- burden to carry.
You see, I think David was too quick to see the punishment of God in Uzzah's death, and often we are not different from our predecessors in faith. I don't think God killed Uzzah for trying to steady the ark; I think Uzzah died of fright over the belief that in some way he had violated God. And who of us, given the mind set of that day, would not have had a similar reaction?
One could certainly have a mental field day over the image of the ark off to the side of the road. In matters of faith, how often a man or woman comes to a point of discontentment and tables matters of faith, maybe even forever. How often a person of faith encounters doubt, and thinking doubt is chronic and not episodic, puts faith off to the side and lets it sit there. With what regularity people come to a point in congregational relationships where they are disgruntled and leave their churchmanship off to the side of the road! How frequently we encounter something that troubles us and let it sit on the side of the road, pretending it away.
After a time, David hears that the ark has not been a source of trouble, but instead a blessing for Obed Edom's family, and so determines to continue with his efforts to get it to Jerusalem. Initially, David is extremely guarded and cautious. Wouldn't we be, too? "After the men carrying the Covenant Box had gone six steps, David had them stop while he offered the Lord a sacrifice of a bull and a fatted calf." (2 Samuel 6:13 TEV) David wasn't about to take any chances. If God had any feelings about the ark of his presence being moved any further, David wanted to know about them. But nothing happened after six steps.
We can understand the caution. If an athlete hurts herself by over-extending, she is going to be cautious when normal activity is resumed. If we fail in one marriage, we are going to go (or at least should go) more slowly into the next one. Should the declaration of our feelings meet with rebuff from some quarter of our lives, then at least in that quarter we will disclose more slowly the next time.
But we can also understand the joy and dancing! What a relief that the Lord God was going to allow the movement of the ark to continue. Despite the proclivity of David and company to erroneously see God's hand in Uzzah's death, they can still become celebrative over their reclaimed understanding that God has blessed their plan. "David, wearing only a linen cloth around his waist, danced with all his might to honor the Lord. And so he and all the Israelites took the Covenant Box up to Jerusalem with shouts of joy and the sound of trumpets." (2 Samuel 6:14-15 TEV)
Our worship should always in part be dance. I don't mean that folks ought to get out of their pews and start to dance about at will whenever they feel so moved, although intentional liturgical dance can be a beautiful expression of faith. But I do mean that there ought to be a dance-like quality about our singing and other expressions of corporate worship. There is no reason why a responsive reading or litany cannot be an expression of joy and praise; they are intended to be infinitely more than liturgical droanings through which one must pass in order to get to the meat which is the sermon.
The Good News Bible (Today's English Version) is full of little pencil sketches that help capture the moods and insights of the Bible. Check out, sometime, the sketch that is attendant to this drama from the sixth chapter of 2 Samuel. It very clearly and delightfully depicts what it means for God's people to rejoice.
A Story Completed Later
So our drama ends on a joyful note. The ark arrives safely in Jerusalem. But it leaves us with the impression that God is almost untouchable; and if not untouchable, touchable only when God wants to be touched.
That issue is addressed fully and forever later in the New Testament and in no place there more poignantly than in the story of the woman who suffered with a severe bleeding disorder, related in all the synoptic gospels. (Mark 5, Matthew 9 & Luke 8) This woman's alleged uncleanness removed her from the consolations of faith (see Leviticus 15); it was held that her condition rendered her unacceptable to God.
Little wonder that when she heard of Jesus and his healing ways, her hope was rekindled. Maybe this was one from the religious community who would not hold her at arm's length and make her feel unworthy. Perchance here was one from God whom she could reach out and actually touch. And she does. And she improves. And Jesus accepts and even affirms what it must have taken great courage for her to do. "My daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace, and be healed of your trouble." (Mark 5:34 TEV) Here is one, unlike Uzzah, who reaches out and intentionally touches him who is God, and far from killing her, it heals and restores her -- a long way from our story in 2 Samuel.
The good news of the Gospel? God can be touched and confidently so. Or perhaps more true to the Gospel story, God reaches out and touches us in Christ Jesus redemptively and gracefully and says, "Don't be afraid of my touch. It is a healing touch and it is for your salvation."
Some Background
The ark, you will recall, was a representation of the presence of God. Writes Norman Gottwald, "The ark was a portable box, probably representing an imageless throne. It accompanied the Hebrews in their wanderings and went with them into battle." (A Light To The Nations, p. 143) It is the removal of this object by David to Jerusalem that sets the stage for this drama.
We need also to remember that whenever this ark was to be removed, there was a ritual associated with that removal. This ritual is described in Numbers 4. But what, specifically, we need to remember in understanding this intriguing drama from 2 Samuel is that the carrying of this ark was understood to be an exceedingly holy activity which, if not done according to the prescribed methods, would result in the death of any who violated those methods.
Describing the duties of the Levite clan of Kohat, the group charged with carrying the ark, two verses from Numbers 4 will give us a sense for the gravity that was to accompany the discharge of this responsibility:
Their service involves the most holy things.
(Numbers 4:4)
The Kohath clan must not touch the sacred objects, or they will die.
(Numbers 4:15)
The Unfolding Drama
David and a large company of people are dancing and singing as the ark is being moved along toward Jerusalem. Two chaps, Uzzah and Ahio, are guiding it along when the oxen pulling it stumble. Uzzah reaches out to steady the ark and suddenly dies. That death is attributed to God: "At once the Lord God became angry with Uzzah and killed him because of his irreverence." (2 Samuel 6:7 TEV)
Keeping in mind what we have said about the utter seriousness involved in moving the ark, place yourself in Uzzah's sandals for a moment. If you were told that the object you were going to move was tantamount to moving God, or the residence God inhabited, and if further you were told that under no circumstances were you to touch God's abode, and then, through no fault of your own, saw that abode beginning to fall to the ground and involuntarily reached out to steady it -- as you would any other falling object -- wouldn't that be for you an exceedingly charged moment? Uzzah probably had a heart attack. Severe shocks can do that to people; that's been documented.
A friend once showed me an envelope that was addressed by George Washington. His name was written on the front, and on the back of it he had written a message. My friend took it out of its protective shield and as I held it, I felt as though I had something very valuable in my hand and thought how tragic it would be were I to accidentally tear it or in some other way damage it. Indeed, it was valuable, many thousands of dollars valuable, and my friend indicated that were his father to need long-term nursing home care, the price fetched by this envelope would probably largely cover the cost of that care.
It was an unusual feeling to hold and touch that envelope, almost as though through it old George and I met. Magnify those feelings trillions of times and you can gain a sense of how Uzzah might have felt when he thought he had done the forbidden and virtually touched God!
His death, of course, is attributed to God. David becomes furious. The holy becomes too hot to handle and the ark is left along the roadside at the house of Obed Edom.
How often we are quick to place this interpretation on circumstances. Years back, a woman in one of my congregations came to me because she was troubled by the ill health of one of her children, a daughter. She had been thirty-seven when this daughter was born and the pregnancy was not a welcome one. As she tells it, her physician and friends denied her the right to her unhappy feelings. The physician told her the child would be a comfort to her in later years. The daughter developed a diabetic condition and this was naturally a source of worriment for the woman. But it was more than normal worriment.
It happened that this woman had a friend who also had a daughter when she was thirty-seven years old. This friend had not wanted to be pregnant either and at nineteen her daughter had died of leukemia, and it was her mother's contention that the child's death represented the punishment of God for the unhappy feelings she had about being pregnant nineteen years before. The woman in my congregation saw these as parallel circumstances and thought that her child would die, too, when she turned nineteen, again as punishment from God for not wanting to be pregnant with this daughter years before. What a tremendous -- and I would add emphatically unnecessary -- burden to carry.
You see, I think David was too quick to see the punishment of God in Uzzah's death, and often we are not different from our predecessors in faith. I don't think God killed Uzzah for trying to steady the ark; I think Uzzah died of fright over the belief that in some way he had violated God. And who of us, given the mind set of that day, would not have had a similar reaction?
One could certainly have a mental field day over the image of the ark off to the side of the road. In matters of faith, how often a man or woman comes to a point of discontentment and tables matters of faith, maybe even forever. How often a person of faith encounters doubt, and thinking doubt is chronic and not episodic, puts faith off to the side and lets it sit there. With what regularity people come to a point in congregational relationships where they are disgruntled and leave their churchmanship off to the side of the road! How frequently we encounter something that troubles us and let it sit on the side of the road, pretending it away.
After a time, David hears that the ark has not been a source of trouble, but instead a blessing for Obed Edom's family, and so determines to continue with his efforts to get it to Jerusalem. Initially, David is extremely guarded and cautious. Wouldn't we be, too? "After the men carrying the Covenant Box had gone six steps, David had them stop while he offered the Lord a sacrifice of a bull and a fatted calf." (2 Samuel 6:13 TEV) David wasn't about to take any chances. If God had any feelings about the ark of his presence being moved any further, David wanted to know about them. But nothing happened after six steps.
We can understand the caution. If an athlete hurts herself by over-extending, she is going to be cautious when normal activity is resumed. If we fail in one marriage, we are going to go (or at least should go) more slowly into the next one. Should the declaration of our feelings meet with rebuff from some quarter of our lives, then at least in that quarter we will disclose more slowly the next time.
But we can also understand the joy and dancing! What a relief that the Lord God was going to allow the movement of the ark to continue. Despite the proclivity of David and company to erroneously see God's hand in Uzzah's death, they can still become celebrative over their reclaimed understanding that God has blessed their plan. "David, wearing only a linen cloth around his waist, danced with all his might to honor the Lord. And so he and all the Israelites took the Covenant Box up to Jerusalem with shouts of joy and the sound of trumpets." (2 Samuel 6:14-15 TEV)
Our worship should always in part be dance. I don't mean that folks ought to get out of their pews and start to dance about at will whenever they feel so moved, although intentional liturgical dance can be a beautiful expression of faith. But I do mean that there ought to be a dance-like quality about our singing and other expressions of corporate worship. There is no reason why a responsive reading or litany cannot be an expression of joy and praise; they are intended to be infinitely more than liturgical droanings through which one must pass in order to get to the meat which is the sermon.
The Good News Bible (Today's English Version) is full of little pencil sketches that help capture the moods and insights of the Bible. Check out, sometime, the sketch that is attendant to this drama from the sixth chapter of 2 Samuel. It very clearly and delightfully depicts what it means for God's people to rejoice.
A Story Completed Later
So our drama ends on a joyful note. The ark arrives safely in Jerusalem. But it leaves us with the impression that God is almost untouchable; and if not untouchable, touchable only when God wants to be touched.
That issue is addressed fully and forever later in the New Testament and in no place there more poignantly than in the story of the woman who suffered with a severe bleeding disorder, related in all the synoptic gospels. (Mark 5, Matthew 9 & Luke 8) This woman's alleged uncleanness removed her from the consolations of faith (see Leviticus 15); it was held that her condition rendered her unacceptable to God.
Little wonder that when she heard of Jesus and his healing ways, her hope was rekindled. Maybe this was one from the religious community who would not hold her at arm's length and make her feel unworthy. Perchance here was one from God whom she could reach out and actually touch. And she does. And she improves. And Jesus accepts and even affirms what it must have taken great courage for her to do. "My daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace, and be healed of your trouble." (Mark 5:34 TEV) Here is one, unlike Uzzah, who reaches out and intentionally touches him who is God, and far from killing her, it heals and restores her -- a long way from our story in 2 Samuel.
The good news of the Gospel? God can be touched and confidently so. Or perhaps more true to the Gospel story, God reaches out and touches us in Christ Jesus redemptively and gracefully and says, "Don't be afraid of my touch. It is a healing touch and it is for your salvation."
