Plymouth Congregational Church of Fort Wayne, UCC
August 9, 2009
Nineteenth Sunday in Pentecost 

Scripture Lesson:  II Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-33

 Faith Beyond All Failing

"... Would I had died instead of you,
O Absalom, my son, my son!"
II Samuel 18:33

Prelude

Permit a brief sketch of what will unfold over the

next few weeks; often in the summer I find myself

drawn the lessons from the Old Testament.  So this morning,

and when next I preach, I'll be dealing with the

lections from the Old Testament - King David - the sweet singer,

musician and poet, the giant slayer, the military

man, the politician, the king, the potentate; very

complex character with whom we will work some

this morning; and then later, David's son and

successor, the wise and ruthless King Solomon.

Next week the Rev. Dr. Bill Deans will preach, enabling

me to be in Chicago for a family gathering; and then in

late August Dr. L. Michael Spath will preach, giving report

and insight into his work with the UCC, and the forging of a

paper expressing our church's position on current efforts

to promote peace in the Middle East.  Dr. Spath is strategically

poised to impact our denomination with his expertise, so

you will not want to miss his preaching. 

Well, having been away for while, I may be rusty. 

Regardless, let's have a go!

Two weeks ago I mounted a thirty-year old

single speed Schwin bicycle, and made way

to attend a church service at First Congregational UCC,

Marblehead, Ohio; located a mile, no more than two,

from the point of my departure.  I have some history with

this church, spotted over many years.  It is a small congregation

located on the peninsula that divides

Lake Erie from the Sandusky Bay.

Attendance spikes during the summer months,

with visitors like myself dropping in.   

I'm guessing maybe 50 folks gathered on this particular day.

This stirred and enthused the pastor, causing her to move

off text and exclaim: "It is so good to see you all,

and to hear your strong song!"

The church edifice, like so many in the area,

is constructed of limestone from the local quarry,

that has long been a sustaining industry for the community.  

It is a solid structure,

weathering 100 plus years,

as well as the blasts that rock

from within the nearby quarry,

harvesting gravel that then is shipped

to ports around the world.

The church people, like so many, are resilient yet fragile.

They have endured in the shadows of more dominant

Roman Catholic, Lutheran, Orthodox and evangelical

faith expressions.  Yet they are not free from worry,

nor immune from the stress and hardship imposed

by the financial crisis that is afflicting many these days.  

In so many words, they are wondering:

how are we going to make it through the pinch,

the pain, the new realities that are now taking shape?

          *****                   *****                   *****

The order of worship at First Congregational UCC, Marblehead,

incorporates all lections/readings for the day; I was not

prepared for one, much less three.  And you get the

whole reading; no editing for efficiency of time. 

The first lesson came in contemporary English.

Chapter 11 of II Samuel, the story of King David,

and Bathsheba, and Uriah the Hittite.  And as

I listened, I found myself -  how shall I say it? -

a bit embarrassed.

This story is so scandalous. 

It is so graphic, so detailed, with no discretion,

no employment of euphemism. 

I actually found myself thanking God the children,

few that there were, had been sent

off, sparing questions we might rather avoid.

I mention this, for it takes great courage

to tell the whole story,

and not to edit or eclipse or clean up

the story for reasons of social or spiritual etiquette.

It takes courage also, tempered by compassion,

to listen, to deal with the story being delivered to us.

So ... in II Samuel 11,

we encountered David being exposed,

laid bear, utterly revealed in his failings.

Far, far more than sex scandal ...

David was bored; he lusted, he stole, he lied, he conspired,

he murdered, and try as he might, he could not

clean it up. This was not sin as just a little mistake;

it was not a momentary lapse, an ill advised fling,

out of character; no, much more involved; it is a

glimpse of life, out of control (of God), a king without

conscience.  And save for the prophet Nathan,

who confronted David, David would have continued to live

n the lie of his own making.  Nathan speaks the word

and prefaces the lesson we heard this morning:

"Now therefore the sword shall never depart

from your house, for you have despised me ..."

(II Samuel 12:10)

In our morning lesson, the never-to-be-departed sword is at work.

David, having been a man of violence, is afflicted with violence. 

It was systemic - the violence - infecting all. 

It flared from within the family circle,

and contaminated the whole of the body politic.

Enter Absalom, David's son,

magnetic, charismatic, attractive.

Absalom, whose beauty was praised

in all Israel, a child without blemish

from the sole of his feet to the crown of head (II Samuel 14:25).

Absalom, estranged and perplexed by the father

who could rule a state but whose role in the family

was confused and baffling.

David loved Absalom,

but his love he could not express.

The scripture states: 

The heart of the king went out, "yearning for Absalom,"

yet from his heart he could not speak.

What a woe, what a woe, what a woe.

Absalom rose to fill the void he sees existing in

his father's imperfect rule.  He conspired and coordinated

a rebellion that brought civil war to the nation.

And David is caught, wanting to be lenient

with the rebellious child who threatens his life,

and the lives of many people. 

When apprehended, no mercy is shown to Absalom.

The word of the king ("Deal gently for my sake with the

young man ..." II Samuel 18:5) does not hold.  He is

executed.  When the Cushite breaks the news,

great is the grief of the king: "O my son Absalom,

my son, my son Absalom!  Would I had died instead of you,

O Absalom my son, my son!"

The grief is palpable; wrenching.

The sword that is never to depart

has pieced and broken the heart,

not only for what was, but for what wasn't.

It is an anguished cry that

captures guilt,

condenses remorse,

crystallizes all past failings,

in the intensity of a moment. 

It is a cry that exposes the travail of a soul at its end,

where words do not adequately function.     

I've seen too much in life, so much

I never want to see again. 

Absalom's death is no singular death. 

His death is a dying also for David.

David faces the tough work of

trying to live in the day that is given

when you don't care about tomorrow.

          *****                   *****                   *****

Curious, David, his reign and rule, his life and times,

are often viewed as a golden age.  Doesn't get any better than

when old King David was on the throne!  Yet, of course,

this isn't truth at all.  There is no cure for what ails us today

lodged in nostalgic or romantic view of the past.

The text, I sense, serves as precaution against such a tack.

The text does invite a strange consideration:  if David made such descent,

how can he ever hope to find favor with God?  It is here that we are

invited to grasp a much larger understanding of divine mercy than is

typical of our trust; God's mercy doesn't spare us trouble; God's mercy

comes to us when we are in trouble from which we are not spared;

we understand what we often fail to "see";  the will of God prevailing

in and through our foibles, suffering us and our sin, to forge tomorrow

as a blessing. 

The text invites a leap into hope; into the mercies of God, urging us

to stand in the faith that exists on the far side of all our failures.

There is, I sense, a rarely quoted word from this larger narrative.

It comes from the woman of Tekoa who is commissioned by Joab,

David's key commander and general, to convince David to end

a de facto banishment the king had imposed upon Absalom.

The woman speaks (II Samuel 14:14).

"We must all die; we are like water spilled on the ground,

which cannot be gathered up.  But God will not take away

a life; God will devise plans so as not to keep an outcast

banished forever from the divine presence."   

David had denied himself the presence of his son, Absalom, whom

he loved (imperfect as it was).  Yet the woman of Tekoa comes

speaking gospel:  God will devise plans so as not to keep an

outcast banished forever. This, also, is an important lesson:

the gospel has this capacity, a penchant, to come from

odd, unlikely, unexpected quarters.  The king does not

generate gospel.  The king is in deep need of gospel.

God devises plans for reconciliation; God works to remedy

what sin and its consequences leave broken; God desires

that we be co-conspirators in this effort, working together,

for our good, and for the good of all. 

David could think it as theory. 

But David struggled to do it as practice. 

He illustrates what I consider a spiritual tragedy;

we live in a partial grace that may well pronounce forgiveness of sin,

but there is no conveyance of power,

no inner resolve or change of heart that

seeks to attain the new life that is divine desire.

We get frozen in a faith that delivers no life after guilt.

Forgiveness of sin is not the amazing grace which we often sing.

Amazing grace is new life that follows an experience of God's mercy,

mercy that comes to us in a wide variety of people, places,

and things.  Amazing grace is not forgiving ourselves or others,

Amazing grace is accepting ourselves, and others,

as God desires.

Johannes Metz, a contemporary Roman Catholic theologian,

calls this "the categorical imperative of the Christian faith:

‘you shall lovingly accept the humanity entrusted to you'...

you shall embrace yourself." 

(see Lewis Smedes, Shame and Guilt, p. 143)

          *****                   *****                   *****

The word I want to speak today:  there is a faith beyond all failing.

There is a mercy that seeds new life.  There is amazing grace

that picks us up today, making bright and better and beautiful

our tomorrow.  May it prove so for all of us, and in so doing, may

God be glorified.

Amen.