What Kind Of King Is This?
Sermon
THE WAY OF THE KING
Sermons For Pentecost (First Third)
Around the end of November, just after Thanksgiving, we celebrate the beginning of the season of Advent: the advent, the coming of God into the world in a most unlikely form and in a most unlikely place. For we celebrate God coming as a baby, in a manger, in a stable, in the little town of Bethlehem.
Today's scripture from 2 Samuel 6 is also about a kind of advent, which may serve to remind us that God's advent - the coming of God's presence into our world and into our lives - is something to be celebrated in all times and places, and is in no way limited to the Christmas season. Nor does it have to wait for any special time in our lives. In this story, God does not come in a manger, but in almost as strange a location (to us anyway), in the ark of the covenant.
The ark was a box, carried on long poles, containing the two tablets of the law: the 10 commandments. The ark had been lost in battle, captured by the enemy, and David had recovered it. Now David was bringing the restored ark of the covenant to Mount Zion for the first time. He was coming to the citadel he had captured from the Jebusites, which was called Jerusalem. Jerusalem had become the City of David, and now, with the advent of the ark, would become forever The City of God. And the scripture says:
"David danced before the Lord with all his might." - 2 Samuel 6:14a
It must have been like Times Square on New Year's Eve: light, noise, laughter, shouting, crowds jostling, pushing and shoving ... some danger, much surprise.
"So David and all the house of Israel brought up the ark of the Lord with shouting, and with the sound of the trumpet." - 2 Samuel 6:15
"David and all the house of Israel were dancing before the Lord with all their might, with songs and lyres and harps and tambourines and castanets and cymbals." - 2 Samuel 6:5
Weaving in and out of the crowd, David the king danced practically naked before the ark. The people loved it and they loved him for it. But Michal, David's wife, daughter of Saul, "looked out of the window and saw King David leaping and dancing before the Lord; and she despised him in her heart." Many that day must have asked, "what kind of king is this?"
David could have made a grand entrance: leading a military review, riding a great white horse, at the head of his army, banners unfurled. That would have been a truly kingly sight.
David could have coined money bearing his image, and scattered it to the people as he passed. That would have been a truly kingly gesture.
David could have arranged for a coronation, where in solemn, dignified splendor, surrounded by priests and generals, with Michal by his side, he would have been crowned monarch of all the tribes and people of Israel. That would have been a truly kingly act.
Instead, sweaty and almost naked, intoxicated with the power and glory of God, David danced among his people. What kind of king is this?
We have been taught since we were knee-high in Sunday school that the people of Jesus' time were waiting for another king like David. We were taught that they wanted a mighty military king like David. I wonder if that's the whole truth of it? I wonder whether they wanted just a military king?
I hope they wanted also a king like this David. A king who would reveal himself so totally before God and the people. Reveal himself physically, yes, girded only with a linen apron:
but reveal himself spiritually, too, dancing with all of his might, full of the ecstasy of God.
I hope that the people in the first century Judea looked for a king like that too. Because that's what they got: a king who spoke to them in teachings which made him vulnerable to them, and them to him. A king who exposed himself to criticism in his healings, and a king who, in the garden, showed all his fears. They got a king who came naked in a stable and died naked on a cross. A king in the line of David.
We could analyze all the reasons why David might have felt like dancing. He had won a great victory, was coming home, his enemies were scattered, the ark recovered, he was bringing it to Jerusalem. The symbol that would unite a divided nation, that would call the old and the young back to their common roots in the wilderness, was coming to Jerusalem. We could analyze what all this would mean in the future. The ark in the City of David would make it the City of God. There would be a temple to hold it, people would come from all over to worship, and David would be both priest and king.
We could analyze all the reasons why David might dance; the difference between David and us is, David did it. With all his might, naked, exposed, open, vulnerable to all those who would despise him in their hearts, David danced. In the midst of the turmoil and the craziness of that tumultuous day, David danced with God.
What does it mean for us to dance before the Lord? When do we dance with God? Are we like David's wife, Michal, who was embarrassed when David showed such vulnerability and such an outpouring of emotion in public? Michal clearly believed this was neither the time nor the place for such a display.
Is our spiritual life - our relationship with God - a personal, private matter, quite apart and separate from the crazy, crowded, hectic activity of everyday life? I suspect that for many of us, maybe for most of us, our spiritual life is something we have put "on hold." In the midst of the craziness of our everyday life, we say to ourselves that someday we are determined to find some time to get ourselves right with God; to find out what God wants us to do with our lives. But not now, this is not the time, not in the midst of all that's going on. Give me some time, some peace and quiet, some day, and I'll think about that.
Again and again people tell me how important God is to them, but with all the pressures, all the tensions, all the anxieties, they just don't have time right now. And, if truth be told, it is sometimes easier, and sometimes safer, to allow ourselves to be carried along on the flood of everyday existence, avoiding the risk and vulnerability of dealing with our relationship to God.
It is daring to dance with God - to see all our human relationships as God would have us see them; to act toward others as God would have us act. It is daring to fold our life around God's will for us. No wonder it can seem safer to put that dance off until the "sometime" which never comes.
The very kind of crazy, tumultuous times which keep us from dancing with God, gave David the occasion and the motivation for his dance. David did not wait until life was calm and peaceful. David did not wait until he could find some isolated and private place. David did not wait until Michal thought it was appropriate and fitting. David just danced.
It is because our lives are crazy, hectic and pressured that we need to find a way to dance with God right now. It takes no skill or physical ability to dance with God, for this is a dance of our souls and spirits when they move to the music of God. You can dance with God at any age or in any condition of life. You can dance with God while riding in a car, sitting in a wheelchair, walking in the street. You can dance with God lying in your bed in the moments before sleep comes. You do not need a quiet hilltop or even an uninterrupted hour to be with God. At your desk, eating lunch, rushing the kids to school, no matter what the day brings, you can dance a bit with God. You can dance a few steps here and there, a few words of praise or prayer, thanksgiving or intercession. It all fits together: the thing is, you don't put it off.
David knew that life is one continuous, everflowing stream. Life is not compartmentalized into a bunch of isolated little puddles, where in this one I work, in that one I'm with my kids, in the one beside that I play and sometimes I'll get to the quiet one way over there where I'll spend time with God. Sometime. David knew that life flows on and carries us with it. When life is most hectic, confused and pressured, God is there too. God is especially there.
In the middle of all the pushing and shoving, the dust and the shouting of the road to Jerusalem, or the streets of Galilee, or our over-committed, over-crowded lives, we decide, like David, whether we're going to dance. Our lives are crazy and hectic and harried. David invites us to be vulnerable enough, daring enough and trusting enough to look for the advent of God right in the midst of our crazy, hectic and harried lives.
What kind of king is this? A king who knows that if we are ever to dance with God, we must begin where we are and as we are right now.
Forgive us, Lord, for forgetting that we are a people on a journey of faith. Forgive us for those times when we think we have arrived, and have no more need of you. When we cry out in the wilderness, you are there. When we walk through dark valleys, you are there. You have set before us right paths and true ways. Let us so walk in your love that the presence of the Lord our God may flow over, and through, and around our lives. In Jesus Christ, our savior and king, we pray. Amen.
Today's scripture from 2 Samuel 6 is also about a kind of advent, which may serve to remind us that God's advent - the coming of God's presence into our world and into our lives - is something to be celebrated in all times and places, and is in no way limited to the Christmas season. Nor does it have to wait for any special time in our lives. In this story, God does not come in a manger, but in almost as strange a location (to us anyway), in the ark of the covenant.
The ark was a box, carried on long poles, containing the two tablets of the law: the 10 commandments. The ark had been lost in battle, captured by the enemy, and David had recovered it. Now David was bringing the restored ark of the covenant to Mount Zion for the first time. He was coming to the citadel he had captured from the Jebusites, which was called Jerusalem. Jerusalem had become the City of David, and now, with the advent of the ark, would become forever The City of God. And the scripture says:
"David danced before the Lord with all his might." - 2 Samuel 6:14a
It must have been like Times Square on New Year's Eve: light, noise, laughter, shouting, crowds jostling, pushing and shoving ... some danger, much surprise.
"So David and all the house of Israel brought up the ark of the Lord with shouting, and with the sound of the trumpet." - 2 Samuel 6:15
"David and all the house of Israel were dancing before the Lord with all their might, with songs and lyres and harps and tambourines and castanets and cymbals." - 2 Samuel 6:5
Weaving in and out of the crowd, David the king danced practically naked before the ark. The people loved it and they loved him for it. But Michal, David's wife, daughter of Saul, "looked out of the window and saw King David leaping and dancing before the Lord; and she despised him in her heart." Many that day must have asked, "what kind of king is this?"
David could have made a grand entrance: leading a military review, riding a great white horse, at the head of his army, banners unfurled. That would have been a truly kingly sight.
David could have coined money bearing his image, and scattered it to the people as he passed. That would have been a truly kingly gesture.
David could have arranged for a coronation, where in solemn, dignified splendor, surrounded by priests and generals, with Michal by his side, he would have been crowned monarch of all the tribes and people of Israel. That would have been a truly kingly act.
Instead, sweaty and almost naked, intoxicated with the power and glory of God, David danced among his people. What kind of king is this?
We have been taught since we were knee-high in Sunday school that the people of Jesus' time were waiting for another king like David. We were taught that they wanted a mighty military king like David. I wonder if that's the whole truth of it? I wonder whether they wanted just a military king?
I hope they wanted also a king like this David. A king who would reveal himself so totally before God and the people. Reveal himself physically, yes, girded only with a linen apron:
but reveal himself spiritually, too, dancing with all of his might, full of the ecstasy of God.
I hope that the people in the first century Judea looked for a king like that too. Because that's what they got: a king who spoke to them in teachings which made him vulnerable to them, and them to him. A king who exposed himself to criticism in his healings, and a king who, in the garden, showed all his fears. They got a king who came naked in a stable and died naked on a cross. A king in the line of David.
We could analyze all the reasons why David might have felt like dancing. He had won a great victory, was coming home, his enemies were scattered, the ark recovered, he was bringing it to Jerusalem. The symbol that would unite a divided nation, that would call the old and the young back to their common roots in the wilderness, was coming to Jerusalem. We could analyze what all this would mean in the future. The ark in the City of David would make it the City of God. There would be a temple to hold it, people would come from all over to worship, and David would be both priest and king.
We could analyze all the reasons why David might dance; the difference between David and us is, David did it. With all his might, naked, exposed, open, vulnerable to all those who would despise him in their hearts, David danced. In the midst of the turmoil and the craziness of that tumultuous day, David danced with God.
What does it mean for us to dance before the Lord? When do we dance with God? Are we like David's wife, Michal, who was embarrassed when David showed such vulnerability and such an outpouring of emotion in public? Michal clearly believed this was neither the time nor the place for such a display.
Is our spiritual life - our relationship with God - a personal, private matter, quite apart and separate from the crazy, crowded, hectic activity of everyday life? I suspect that for many of us, maybe for most of us, our spiritual life is something we have put "on hold." In the midst of the craziness of our everyday life, we say to ourselves that someday we are determined to find some time to get ourselves right with God; to find out what God wants us to do with our lives. But not now, this is not the time, not in the midst of all that's going on. Give me some time, some peace and quiet, some day, and I'll think about that.
Again and again people tell me how important God is to them, but with all the pressures, all the tensions, all the anxieties, they just don't have time right now. And, if truth be told, it is sometimes easier, and sometimes safer, to allow ourselves to be carried along on the flood of everyday existence, avoiding the risk and vulnerability of dealing with our relationship to God.
It is daring to dance with God - to see all our human relationships as God would have us see them; to act toward others as God would have us act. It is daring to fold our life around God's will for us. No wonder it can seem safer to put that dance off until the "sometime" which never comes.
The very kind of crazy, tumultuous times which keep us from dancing with God, gave David the occasion and the motivation for his dance. David did not wait until life was calm and peaceful. David did not wait until he could find some isolated and private place. David did not wait until Michal thought it was appropriate and fitting. David just danced.
It is because our lives are crazy, hectic and pressured that we need to find a way to dance with God right now. It takes no skill or physical ability to dance with God, for this is a dance of our souls and spirits when they move to the music of God. You can dance with God at any age or in any condition of life. You can dance with God while riding in a car, sitting in a wheelchair, walking in the street. You can dance with God lying in your bed in the moments before sleep comes. You do not need a quiet hilltop or even an uninterrupted hour to be with God. At your desk, eating lunch, rushing the kids to school, no matter what the day brings, you can dance a bit with God. You can dance a few steps here and there, a few words of praise or prayer, thanksgiving or intercession. It all fits together: the thing is, you don't put it off.
David knew that life is one continuous, everflowing stream. Life is not compartmentalized into a bunch of isolated little puddles, where in this one I work, in that one I'm with my kids, in the one beside that I play and sometimes I'll get to the quiet one way over there where I'll spend time with God. Sometime. David knew that life flows on and carries us with it. When life is most hectic, confused and pressured, God is there too. God is especially there.
In the middle of all the pushing and shoving, the dust and the shouting of the road to Jerusalem, or the streets of Galilee, or our over-committed, over-crowded lives, we decide, like David, whether we're going to dance. Our lives are crazy and hectic and harried. David invites us to be vulnerable enough, daring enough and trusting enough to look for the advent of God right in the midst of our crazy, hectic and harried lives.
What kind of king is this? A king who knows that if we are ever to dance with God, we must begin where we are and as we are right now.
Forgive us, Lord, for forgetting that we are a people on a journey of faith. Forgive us for those times when we think we have arrived, and have no more need of you. When we cry out in the wilderness, you are there. When we walk through dark valleys, you are there. You have set before us right paths and true ways. Let us so walk in your love that the presence of the Lord our God may flow over, and through, and around our lives. In Jesus Christ, our savior and king, we pray. Amen.
