2 Samuel 11.26-12.10, 13-15
Psalm 32
Galatians 2.15-21
Luke 7:36-8.3
If
you read your way through the Old Testament you’ll see the evolution of the
motif of prophet and king that we find in today’s lesson from the book of
Second Samuel. What eventually becomes the nation of Israel begins with a
covenant between God and an elderly, childless man and his wife, Abraham and
Sarah. God’s part of the promise is that
their children and their heirs will become as numerous as grains of sand on the
earth. Eventually it all comes about as God promises. This people of God work
their way through a few nomadic generations, acquiring the name Israel along
the way. Their leaders are appointed by God, often through odd turns of events
and their organization is tribal. Eventually famine drives them into Egypt,
where Joseph, having been sold by his brothers as a slave, has risen to power
as an advisor to Pharaoh. He brings his own family to settle in Egypt where
they survive the famine. A generation later, they and all the Israelites become
enslaved. Another great prophetic leader emerges, also through a remarkable
turn of events. Through his mother’s effort to save his life, Moses becomes the
ward of Pharaoh’s daughter. God calls
him to lead his people out of slavery. They escape from Egypt and wander in the
desert for another generation or two until God’s promise to Moses is realized.
It is of the order of the promise made to Abraham. Israel is finally to have a
land of its own, no longer to wander, but to be identified with a particular
place. Moses sees the land from a distance, but he dies before the people enter
into it. That is another early hint of a central divergence of roles that is
more fully expressed in the encounter between David and Nathan.
Israel lives on and rubs elbows with
its neighbors. A difference of opinion emerges. Some of the people begin to
think that Israel needs a king. Other nations have kings. They are powerful,
purposeful and clearly directed. Others disagree. God is meant to be Israel’s
king. Only if that is true, will its people maintain the faith that has brought
them this far. It might seem that the conflict has been resolved when God calls
Saul to be Israel’s first king and he is ceremonially inducted into that office
by the prophet Samuel. But Saul’s reign
comes to a disastrous end in a battle against the Philistines. He and his three
sons are killed. His son in law David eventually inherits his throne. David’s
genius for the role of king is legendary. If anyone might have set aside
Israel’s ambivalence about the idea of monarchy, surely he is the one who could
do it. But it persists throughout the Old Testament in repeated encounters in
which the prophet calls the king to account. Today we hear one of the most
famous of those interactions.
You know the story of David and
Bathsheba. He sees her from a distance, admires her beauty and wants her as his
wife. Her husband, Uriah, is an officer in the army. David arranges for him to
be killed in battle and takes Bathsheba, now a widow, as his own wife,
apparently having no sense of the harm that he has done. This is the literature
of the ancient world, so Bathsheba is portrayed as property, albeit, highly
valued property, of both of the two men who have claimed her. And the harm done is described entirely in
terms of its impact on Uriah. What Bathsheba might want or care about is not
relevant. Nathan tells David the story of the wrong he has done in allegorical
form. David readily understands the injustice and immediately passes harsh
judgment on the one who has done wrong. Nathan springs the trap on him and David
realizes with great remorse what a terrible thing he has done. Nathan assures
David that God has forgiven him, but his punishment will be harsh. His own
child, the son of Bathsheba will die, and he will never be free of the threat
and reality of warfare.
The tension between prophet and king
lives on, well past the lifetime of David. It is a constant in the books of
Isaiah and Jeremiah. We see it throughout history, at least in the west. Among
its clearest manifestations in the modern era are the movement to abolish
enslavement and slave trafficking in the British Empire and the United States
and in the civil rights movement a century later. Frederick Douglass, Harriet
Tubman, William Wilberforce, Martin Luther King Jr.and many others are its
prophets.
The tradition of prophetic witness has
never been entirely absent from the church. Its full expression ebbs and flows
with history. The relationship between church and government in various times
and places has had an impact on the tension between those two roles as well. In
the United States, where clear and specific legal lines are drawn between them,
the relationship still exists in the political and social realm. In the 19th
century, some Christians justified the enslavement of human beings with
reference to Paul’s letters and other biblical texts as passionately as their
brothers and sisters in Christ opposed slavery. Throughout the 20th
century religion had a part in justifying warfare and religious affiliation was
a factor in the election of candidates for office. The alignment of religion
and politics has grown over the last three decades, so much so, that religion’s
political overtones are one of the primary reasons given by persons who claim
no religious affiliation for having made that choice.
Episcopal Churches are note likely to
invite candidates for office in to preach on Sunday mornings. As a group we
tend to value and respect a distinct line drawn between religion and government.
Our church does see a clear role for religion in the formation of public policy
and its inspiration is the same tension between king and prophet that underlies
this encounter between David and Nathan. Sometimes the prophet must stand in
opposition to the desires of the one who holds authority. Traditionally that
authority resides in government, but in the 21st century,
increasingly government is in the hands of those who hold economic power.
Regardless of the circumstances, at different times, in different ways, we are
all called upon to stand in that prophetic role.
In the last year or two at St. Mary’s
the Vestry has made an intentional choice to keep Sunday worship as a time of
prayer. I don’t believe that has had a negative impact on our ability as a
community to act prophetically. On some issues, prophetic witness is so deeply
engrained in the fabric of this congregation that we almost don’t need to talk
about it. But that is not true of everything. On more than one occasion we have
offered opportunities to learn about ballot issues with moral and social
justice implications or to sign a petition during coffee hour. What is
important to understand is that in offering that opportunity, or in taking a
public stand on an issue, the church is not simply entering into the political
realm because a particular priest or parishioner has an opinion on an issue.
Rather, the church is taking on the role of prophet – offering moral commentary
on the world we live in based on the Christian principles of love and justice. To
act in that role is a call from God as old as our ancestors in the faith.
Today we will be sending forth one of
our own members who has heard a prophetic call. Lydia Nebel has been involved
for some time in the movement to end human trafficking. She will be leaving us
after this week for a three-month residence in Amsterdam to do that very
important work. We will offer prayers for her later this morning. Our
admiration for Lydia’s effort and commitment should not overshadow the reality that God
will call us all, in some way, to embody the same wisdom and courage that she
and all the others who have gone before her, show to us.
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