“What we fear, God chooses. What we shame, God anoints.”
Sermon by Mike Kinman at All Saints Church, Pasadena, on Sunday, June 17, 2018.
Samuel asked, “Are these all the sons you have?” “There is still the youngest,” Jesse said, “but he is tending the sheep.”
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What we fear. God chooses
What we shame. God anoints.
Why was David sent out to the fields?
The story is familiar enough. Many of us have heard it since we were children.
Samuel comes to town. Now Samuel is a powerful person, so powerful that the elders are trembling until Samuel assures them that he has come peaceably. And, not only has he come peaceably, he has come to party. Samuel has brought a heifer to sacrifice to God … and that means there will be a great feast and the whole community will share in it.
This is a good day.
So why was David sent out to the fields?
As the feast goes on, Jesse learns that Samuel is not just there for a party but to annoint one whom God has chosen. The last time Samuel chose someone for God, he anointed Saul as King of Israel. Imagine what must be going through Jesse’s mind. “Samuel is searching for a king and he has come to my house. Imagine that. I just got up this morning thinking this was going to be an ordinary day and now one of my sons could be the next king.”
Imagine the glory. Imagine the power. Imagine the honor. Imagine the wealth this would mean for this family.
Samuel is looking for a king and Jesse’s sons are the prime candidates.
So why was David still out in the fields?
Seriously. In a situation like this, where every one of your sons is the biggest of lottery tickets, why was David not immediately called in from the fields?
The answers that the church has usually given just don’t cut it.
David needed to look after the sheep? Are you kidding me? This is a chance for one of your children to become KING? Jesse had servants, send one of them to look after the sheep. Or hell, let the sheep wander around by themselves for a while? David needed to look after the sheep? That’s like saying “I’m sorry my child can’t accept that Rhodes Scholarship, she really needs to clean the bathroom.”
David was too young? Well, OK, we tend to dismiss younger generations and overlook their potential, and that certainly might make David an unlikely choice … that certainly might be a reason to have Samuel look at David last – but again, this is a chance for one of your children to become KING. You use every chance you get.
Why was David still out in the fields?
This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. If there was ever a time to call David in from the fields it was now – especially, since the text makes a point of saying, David was right out of central casting – “a ruddy youth with bright eyes and handsome to behold.” Chadwick Boseman, a young Robert Redford, take your pick! If there was ever a time to call David in from the fields it was now. So why was David still out in the fields?
It makes no sense for David to be out in the fields unless…
Unless there is something about David that Jesse fears.
Unless there is something about David of which Jesse is ashamed.
Unless there is something about David that Jesse fears will bring that shame to his whole family and cause Samuel to reconsider the whole idea of looking to his sons for the next king.
What do we know about David? At this point – nothing. But eventually David would show us who he was. We know that he desired Bathsheba so powerfully that it became his ruin. And we also know that he loved, from the first moment he saw him and in a way the Biblical text goes out of its way to describe in erotic and physical terms, Saul’s son Jonathan. We know that scripture says that “Jonathan loved David as his own soul” and that at Jonathan’s death David sings that his love for Jonathan was “surpassing the love of women.” We know that as passionate as David was for Bathsheba when he saw her bathing on the rooftop, his passion for Jonathan truly knew no bounds.
Why was David sent out to the fields?
Because David was not like Jesse. And David was not like his brothers.
David was young and David was queer … and his family was afraid. David was young and David was queer … and his family was ashamed.
Eventually, David would show the world who he was. He danced fabulously in front of the ark in the priestly equivalent of his underwear, scandalizing others but bothering him not a bit. He would show himself to be a musician who could soothe the deepest pain and a ruler who could conquer nations. Eventually, David would be revered and honored. Eventually, David would be called the greatest king Israel had ever known.
Eventually, all this would happen. But before that David would have to run and hide. Before that, David would have to meet his lover in secret and fear for his life. Before that David would be sent out to the field when the greatest of visitors — Samuel, the maker of kings – came to their village. David was sent out to the fields and not only told “there is no way you would ever be chosen to be king” he was told “stay away, be quiet, all you can do is bring shame and disgrace to our family.”
What was it like for David out in the field?
To be told by your own father and siblings that you are a disgrace because of who you are? That you can only bring shame to your own family? That who you love, that who you are is not only not worthy of them but not worthy of God?
What was it like for David out in the field?
How deep was the loneliness? How profound was the agony? How deafening was the silence?
What was it like for David out in the field, hearing the preparations for the feast from a distance and knowing you are not welcome.
How wet was his shirt from his tears?
How close did David come to running away?
How close did David come to hanging himself from a tree?
It could have happened. Certainly, it is an all too common tale.
What was it like for David out in the field?
Many of us know the answer to that question.
What is it like to be different?
What is it like to be cast aside?
Many of us know the answer to that question
all
too
well.
And yet — the story does not end there.
David was sent out into the fields because his father was afraid.
David was sent out into the fields because his family was ashamed.
And…
What we fear. God chooses.
What we shame. God anoints.
Because the story doesn’t end with David in the field. The story continues.
The story continues with Samuel saying “isn’t there one more…”
“Are these all the sons you have?” Samuel says, knowing the answer.
“Isn’t there one more?”
In fear, in shame, Jesse tried to pretend that David didn’t exist. But God knows. And God loves. And God chooses. And God anoints.
“Isn’t there one more?” Samuel asks, and in that moment, Jesse is laid bare. In that moment his fear and his shame are compounded. In that moment, Jesse fears the shame of Samuel’s judgment on him and his family for this child who eventually will bring him glory but for now is so sure will bring him shame. In that moment, he is ashamed that his ruse has been uncovered, that he was unable to find a closet deep enough to hide his son … this part of his family, this part of him that he so feared coming into the light.
“Isn’t there one more?” Samuel asks. “Isn’t there one more?”
Those words are God saying, calling, singing: “David. David.”
I see you out there, David.
I feel your loneliness, David.
I know your agony, David.
“Isn’t there one more?” Samuel asks. “Isn’t there one more?”
Samuel’s question is the thunderous proclamation of a God who looks on Jesse’s fear and shame and says “Oh, my child, how dare you?”
How dare you be ashamed of any child that I have made?
How dare you cast out any child that I have made in fear and in shame?
How dare you make any child that I have made believe they are anything but beloved.
Isn’t there one more? Samuel asks. And still Jesse hedges, being as dismissive as he can.
“There is still the youngest – but he is tending the sheep.” Jesse says. You can almost hear the pleading in his voice not to make him bring David near.
And Samuel’s voice thunders with love: “Send for him; we will not begin the sacrificial banquet until he arrives.”
You fear David? You are ashamed of David?
Well, we will not sit down until he comes here.
For what we fear. God chooses.
What we shame. God anoints.
And David, out in the field…
Alone.
Ashamed.
Rejected.
Angry.
Self-loathing.
Head in his hands.
Tears on his chest.
Scars on his wrists.
David, out in the field, hears the deafening silence broken by a cry, shattered by a song.
Come, David. Come.
And David comes. And he stands before Samuel. And it is not Samuel’s voice, but God hirself who says “Rise and anoint this one.” Here is your king.
And the tears come again for David. Tears that are still of pain, for the pain has not magically disappeared. Tears that are also of disbelieving joy. And tears that are of something else. Tears that are the beginning … of Pride.
Yes, Pride. We talk a lot about Pride this month. Elizabeth Edman, in her transformative book, Queer Virtue, says “Pride begins first and foremost with the ability to see yourself.” And then she continues, saying:
“Colloquially the word ‘pride’ can refer to an excessive level of self-esteem that keeps people from engaging other people. It can also refer to a determined, isolating self-sufficiency… But queer Pride isn’t like that. Queer Pride demands and depends upon relationship – which is to say an individual’s Pride is bolstered by immersion in community. It involves a reciprocal dynamic in which one’s sense of self-worth feeds and is fed by relationships with others.”
The gift God gave David was not just anointing him as king. The gift God gave David and all of Israel was the gift of Pride. The invitation for David to see himself – if indeed David identified as a he – as God saw David. As beautiful. And wonderful. And powerful. And lovable. And good.
God could have done this out in the field. God could have had Samuel go out into the field, meet and anoint David there … but God made a different choice. God had David brought into the heart of the family that had rejected him, that had feared him, that had shamed him. God had David brought right in the midst of David’s father and brothers and the text makes a point of saying that “Samuel took the horn of oil and anointed him in the presence of his brothers.”
It was not a shaming of them, though perhaps they felt ashamed. It was inviting them into Pride as well. It was inviting David’s family into a new relationship. A relationship where there could be healing from the damage that had been done. A relationship where David’s family could join God in casting aside the fear and the shame and embrace the choosing. Embrace the anointing. A relationship where David’s father and brothers could share in Pride themselves – embracing David – who he was and who and how he loved as beautiful. And wonderful. And powerful. And lovable. And good. And that when they did, those things became true about themselves as well. Now that’s a Father’s Day.
We read this story and ask the question: “Why was David out in the fields?” knowing it is not just a question of an ancient text but a question that is deeply and painfully relevant today.
For every day we are reminded we are still fearing and afraid, shaming and ashamed, rejecting and rejected.
Every day, God and the church are still weaponized against those among us who are lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, intersex, asexual and more.
Every day, as church and as a society, we are still frightfully, fearfully heteronormative, homophobic, biphobic and transphobic in our language, attitudes and structures.
Every day, as a church and as a society, we are still creating tiers of acceptable exclusion and hate in public policy and access to the sacramental life that is the very oxygen we breathe.
Every day, as a church and as a society, we are still sending our beautiful sisters, brothers and genderfluid siblings out into the field in ways large and small, in shouts and whispers proclaiming the false, toxic Gospel that God shames and condemns what in truth God has never done anything but love.
We have done so much amazing work going beyond inclusion and claiming the blessing. We have come so far and there is much to celebrate … and there is so much more work to do. So many more systems to change. So many more homecomings to host. So much more Pride to celebrate. Because there are even in this room and certainly out in this world far too many who have been sent out to the fields.
Who are
Alone.
Ashamed.
Rejected.
Angry.
Self-loathing.
Head in hands.
Tears on chest.
Scars on wrists.
There are even in this room and certainly out in this world far too many who are still out in the fields, gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, queer, intersex, asexual, genderfluid, the list goes on … cast away by their families, condemned by the church. And if that is you – know that God’s voice is searching for you wherever you are. And God’s voice is saying:
I see you.
I love you.
I choose you.
And God is saying to the church: “Rise and anoint this one.”
Amen.
