1 Samuel 15:34 -16:13
David’s anointing is full of pageantry and suspense—if it were happening today, I imagine something along the lines of the Bachelor and American Idol.
God’s priest and judge, Samuel invites Jesse and his sons and the elders of the city to a sacrifice. They all arrive, not realizing that this is no ordinary sacrifice—but instead the newest season of “Who Wants to Be The Next King of Israel?!”
After God’s displeasure with last season’s winner: Saul, God is looking for a new king. Unlike Saul’s choosing, this time is filled with more suspense as all 7 of Jesse’s sons are being considered.
Just as the love rarely lasts between the bachelor and his chosen bride, God has regretting choosing Saul and wishing to choose a new candidate. Not to be fooled this time, God has been acting on the sidelines, doing research, and cultivating a new king from among Jesse’s sons.
As the seven sons line up to be considered, Samuel represents God in choosing the appropriate new leader. He assumes, that it must be Eliab, the tallest and fiercest, but no, God has something more unusual in mind—after all Saul was also handsome and tall, and that didn’t work out to well—“I do not judge by appearances,” says God. And so Samuel approaches the next son: Abinidab—a bit shorter, but with a cheerful demeanor—and God says “no.”
On to Shammah—the best fighter in the family—but God says “no.”
And on it goes: past the strongest brother, past the brother with the best diplomatic skills, Past the craftiest brother, past the funniest brother, past the kindest brother, past that troublesome brother who everyone knows mom loves best.
Finally, all sons have been passed over without any sign of approval from God. Samuel is forced to ask Jesse: are you sure these are all your sons? And like the wicked stepmother having to fetch Cinderella for the prince, Jesse admits that there is a younger son, out tending the sheep—when David joins his brothers, the audience snickers—but as we’ve learned from Susan Boyle, appearances are not everything.
Remember, says God, I judge by the heart.
This brother: ruddy, handsome, with beautiful eyes-- “this is the one” God announces and Samuel anoints him—and David’s life of tending sheep is never the same.
What has led to this drama—why is God in search of a new king?
The Israelites are in transition: moving from a tribal society to a monarchy. Saul has been their first king—something of an experiment with whom God is no longer pleased.
God wasn’t really pleased when the Israelites starting begging for a king so they could “be like other nations.” Because their unique value came from being God’s chosen people, the people who were lucky enough to have Yahweh for their lord and king, the people who did not actually need a human king.
But they wanted one: the Moabites, the Amalekites, the Ammonites, the Philistines, all had one—a human king-in-the-flesh who could weld a sword in battle, attend councils, establish treaties.
Yahweh sent judges, priests, prophets, oracles to be human representatives. The Israelites wanted the validation of having a king, of being organized like nearby peoples, to feel more legit and equal—and as a side effect, to deny what made them special and different. They wanted to be like everyone else and they were “determined to have a king over us, so that we also may be like other nations, and that our king may govern us and go out before us and fight our battles.”
Even when Samuel warns them of the realities of kingdom life—that the king will take the best men, the best animals, the best of the harvest for himself and his inner circle—this was what they wanted.
Though reluctant, God chooses Saul—who turns out to make foolish choices, to make rash oaths, to not follow God’s orders. The breaking point for God, is when God orders Saul to utterly destroy the Amalekites in a form of divine punishment—and instead, Saul almost follows the command, but he takes the leader captive and lets his soldiers feast on the best of the livestock.
And God regrets making Saul king and provides a new king.
The world of 1 Samuel is different than our world—different rules, different customs, different understandings of God. We hear the easy explanation: the God of the Old Testament is vengeful and angry. The God of the New Testament is gracious and loving. As if the God of Jesus is not the same as the God of Abraham. As if the God of Christians is not the same as the God of Jews.
God demands the annihilation of the Amalekites as a form of justice. God does not delight in this human death, but deems it necessary based on their prior behavior.
“Thus says the Lord of hosts, I will punish the Amalekites for what they did in opposing the Israelites when they came up out of Egypt. Now go and attack Amalek and utterly destroy all that they have, do not spare them, but kill both man and woman, child and infant, ox and sheep, camel and donkey.”
This type of command is a ban: includes God’s judgment and the required sentence—which in this case includes all humans and animals.
All are to be destroyed and offered back to God as a sacrifice.
In an odd way the ban affirms the equality of all human life—no one person has any value over another—and is communal—all the people share the guilt—no innocent civilians or guilty soldiers. It also affirms that all life comes from God and that all life is a sacrifice to God.
The ban comes awfully close to the idea of ethnic cleansing—an uncomfortable thought following the shooting at the Holocaust museum earlier this week and the anti-Semitism that still abounds. Do scriptures like this legitimize some of the hatred for the Jewish people? In a Bible study, someone recently commented “there’s an awful lot about the Israelites in the Old Testament.” Well, of course. She wanted stories of other peoples too, but those are found in other books—this is a story written by one group of people for their own use—their own version of the story—not a global perspective, but a local and personal one.
This is our Bible too. These are our holy scriptures, these are words coming out of the Lord our God, our provider and protector, our rock and our comfort.
This is a God who requires justice when one nation oppresses another.
The God who has created all life and mourns all of it passing. The God who feels pain and sadness both for Stephen Johns and James von Brunn.
They are both children of God, both sinners in need of forgiveness, and it’ll be up to God to figure out how to cleanse and reconcile both.
And we are left with the mystery of Yahweh: the mystery of God’s choice, the mystery of God’s plan, God’s presence, God’s justice, God’s hand in all our lives: the mystery of the scriptures: of Saul, the Israelites, the Amalekites, David, Jesus.
In choosing David: God goes with the youngest and smallest, the one tending sheep, an unlikely choice that surprises even Samuel, who after a long time of serving God should expect to be surprised.
For God is always on the side of the least, the oppressed, the underdog.
Like the mustard seed that grows into something large
Like the tiniest amount of faith giving us great courage
God brings great things out of small things
King David—will do no better, despite being a man “after God’s own heart” he will be a failure of a king and of a human being. Showing once and for all that God was right in not wanting to give Israel a human king. When Jesus walks on the earth, the people are still expecting a human ruler: one to overturn governments, to lead battles, to take prisoners, to make treaties. But instead, they get a strangely peaceful person who ultimately dies without ever assuming a throne: only crowned and robed as king in mockery.
We human beings always desire the physical, the visible—our God incarnate. Which we continue to celebrate in the tangible bread and wine—remembering the body and blood, celebrating the presence of Christ all around us.
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