Sermon preached July 26, 2015
Texts: II Samuel
11:1-15
Baptisms
are often such emotionally warm occasions.
There are parents, often younger.
Most often there are children, cute children dressed so nicely, often
infants who bring smiles of joy to our faces and our hearts. Just last Sunday we experienced together a
profoundly moving baptism of a grandfather and his two granddaughters. Many of our eyes moistened. Our hearts were moved.
In
the midst of this warm emotional stew comes a stark question, seemingly out of
place: Do you accept the freedom and
power God gives you to resist evil, injustice and oppression in whatever forms
they present themselves? The
language is forceful. The words are hard
– evil, injustice, oppression. The
question brings home to us part of the important reality of baptism, of the
church, of Christian faith. The world is
not the world we would like it to be.
Again this week we are mourning shooting deaths in our county. An ugly form of Islam continues to wreak
havoc in the world – ISIS, Boko Haram.
We are still trying to figure out how we can live together as human
beings and how we can overcome legacies of racism, injustice and oppression.
In
Jesus Christ God calls us to work for a newer world, more loving, more
compassionate, more just. The church is a community of people who
have been touched by God’s grace and love in Jesus Christ and who are seeking
to live in such a way, individually and together, that they grow in love of God
and others, and witness to the grace of God in Jesus (my
definition). We are here in
response to God’s love to work with God and each other on God’s dream for a
newer world. In baptism we say “yes” to
the God who has already said “yes” to us.
In baptism we feel the warmth of God’s love in the waters. In baptism, we pledge a new direction for our
lives. Do you accept the freedom and power God gives you to resist evil,
injustice and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves?
This
baptismal question is a central question in this morning’s Scripture
reading. The reading would certainly
garner a PG-13 rating for sexual references, disturbing plot, and
violence. It could easily be rated R
depending on how much detail one wanted to show. The story could come with a warning – “some
material may not be suitable.” The July
22 issue of The Christian Century reprinted
a painting of Bathsheba by Rembrandt. It
is not an image I could project this morning.
Through it all, questions of the use of freedom and power are pointedly
raised.
David
has all kinds of power. He is the king,
afterall. The biblical prophet and
judge, Samuel had warned the people of the power of a king. He will
take your sons and appoint them to his chariots and to be his horsemen, and to
run before his chariots; and he will appoint for himself commanders of
thousands and commanders of fifties, and some to plow his ground and to reap
his harvest, and to make his implements of war and the equipment of his
chariots. He will take your daughters to
be perfumers and cooks and bakers. He
will take the best of your fields and vineyards and olive orchards and give
them to his courtiers. He will take one-tenth
of your grain and of your vineyards and give it to his officers and courtier. He will take your male and female slaves, and
the best of your cattle and donkeys and put them to his work. He will take one-tenth of your flocks, and
you will be his slaves. (I Samuel 8:11-17)
David
is king, with all kinds of power, and the text alludes to that rather
lightly. “In the spring of the year, the
time when kings go out to battle…” The
text recognizes that’s just what kings do.
They have enormous freedom and power.
But this year David does not go.
The reader is being set up for something, for a misuse of freedom and
power. Rather than joining his troops,
David hangs back. Walking on his roof he
spies a beautiful woman bathing. He
sends for her. That is within his
power. They spend time together and she
becomes pregnant. David conceives a plot
to cover up his misuse of freedom and power.
He calls her husband Uriah back from the war, hoping that he will be
with his wife, Bathsheba, and then he will think he is the father of the child. Uriah, however, uses some of his freedom and
power and does not go into his wife.
That plot failed, David conceives a more dastardly one. He will put Uriah in the most dangerous part
of the battle where he is likely to be killed, and that’s what happens.
The
story is old, but it gets replayed throughout history. Those with significant freedom and power
misuse and abuse it. History is littered
with examples of power and freedom misused – beheadings in ISIS controlled
territory, the Holocaust, the killing fields of Cambodia, the gulags of the
Soviet Union, the disappeared in Argentina, the missing in Chile, the African
slave trade here in the United States, the shipping of native children to
boarding schools. There are certainly
differences in degree here, but it does not take long to come up with
examples. They can be found almost daily
in the news. The powerful are often
tempted to misuse their power, and often succumb to the temptation.
In
the story, Bathsheba is relatively powerless.
At the very least, her power pales in comparison to David’s. The question of her power is difficult to
ascertain, but at least in the story as it is told here, she may have had some
power. Could she have said “no”
somewhere along the way? Was there a
degree of consent on her part to this relationship? We should exercise caution here because of
the history of males using their relatively greater positions of power against
women. Raising the question, however,
moves us to consider the possibility that even the less powerful may have some
power and some freedom.
The
story is of a misuse of power and freedom, a giving in to lust that
damages. It is not an anti-sex story,
and it is important to say that. Michael
Eigen, in his book Lust, a book I never read out in public, Eigen
writes: Lust enlarges, enriches, makes
life taste good. Lust damages and grows
from damage…. Selfish lust stops cold at
the wall of the other…. The other as
fantasy, as pleasure, part of my will. (1, 103). Desire, even intense desire, is not bad, it
is what we do with it. Sharon Salzberg: All too often, people will sacrifice love,
family life, career, or friendship to satisfy sexual craving. Abiding happiness is given up for temporary
pleasure, and a great deal of suffering ensues when we are willing to cause
pain to satisfy our desires. (Lovingkindness, 175-176). The problem here is not that David notices
Bathsheba’s beauty, or feels some stirring, some energy. It is the misdirection of his energy, the
abuse of power, the misuse of freedom.
The problem is even more acute when he abuses his power to set up the
death of Uriah.
Uriah
is a study in contrast in the story, a model of using freedom and power
well. He is faithful in his duties as a
soldier. He is unwilling to enjoy the
company of his wife while his fellow soldiers are engaged in battle, a direct
contrast to David. It is interesting
that the foreigner, Uriah the Hittite, comes across better than the Jewish King
David in this story.
So,
do you accept the freedom and power God gives you to resist evil, injustice and
oppression in whatever forms they present themselves? We are not kings or queens. We do not have that kind of freedom or that
kind of power, but we have some freedom and some power, even if limited. I recently read The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
with the interfaith book group I lead, and I could read that one in
public. There is this wonderful line in
the story, not found in the movie. When
the Lion sees the Wizard for his courage, the Wizard takes a square, green
bottle from a shelf and pours its contents into a green-gold dish. He tells the Lion to drink. The Lion asks what it is, to which the Wizard
replies: Well, if it were inside of you,
it would be courage. You know, of
course, that courage is always inside one; so that this really cannot be called
courage until you have swallowed it. (L. Frank, Baum, The Wonderful
Wizard of Oz, 162)
You
have freedom and power inside of you. It
is not unlimited, but it exists. The
question always before each of us is will we use our freedom and power well –
to resist evil, injustice and oppression, to do good, to create beauty, to do
justice, to create peace, to care, to love?
David’s story goes on, and we will explore the next chapter next
Sunday. For today, the question about
using our freedom and power well is enough, and I want to end with a poem that
encourages us to do that. http://poetry-fromthehart.blogspot.com/2013/01/sometimes-sheenagh-pugh.html
“Sometimes” Sheenagh Pugh
Sometimes things don't go, after all,
from bad to worse.
Some years, muscadel
faces down frost; green thrives; the crops don't fail,
sometimes a man aims high, and all goes well.
A people sometimes will step back from war;
elect an honest man, decide they care
enough, that they can't leave some stranger poor.
Some men become what they were born for.
Sometimes our best efforts do not go
amiss, sometimes we do as we meant to.
The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow
that seemed hard frozen:
may it happen for you.
And
sometimes we are part of making the good happen as we use our freedom and power
well. May we, by the grace of God, make
that happen and happen often. By the
grace and power of God – from sometimes to often. Amen.
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