Our story this morning from First Samuel is about the Old Testament prophet Samuel, the patriarch Jesse and his eight sons, and of course Yahweh. It reflects a significant time in the history of Israel’s tribes. Scholars cannot agree on whether it represents true history or if it represents the symbolic gathering of Israel’s tribes into a political and social force.
It takes place about eight hundred years before the Common Era, and shares with us that chaotic time of social and cultural development when the tribes moved from leadership by prophets and priests to leadership by a king. As with all paradigm shifts of social consciousness, there is to be sure confusion and doubt on whether this is all working, and whether the social structures should continue forward with this changing environment or whether everything should revert to the former structures.
King Saul, once so mightily favored by Yahweh, had become what some party leaders today would call a “liability.” He had been a strong, tribal leader, able to gather all the tribes of Israel together and had established land and boundaries for which the Israelites hungered. However, Saul had disobeyed Yahweh. He had, in fact, disobeyed the cultural conventions of his time and place, and allowed his enemies to live, after they were conquered.
We have witnessed in our times, that cultic demand that all of one’s enemies must die to secure the victory one has over a conquered tribe.
Saul had allowed the king of the Amalekites to live after his triumphant defeat of the Amalekite tribes. Yahweh had demanded that all the Amalekites be destroyed and no one was to be left alive. Saul allowed the king to live, as well as the healthy sheep and cattle.
He should have known better, when Yahweh gives you the victory, you do what Yahweh says. But Saul did not, and the story, as they say, had no other ending but the one we know—Saul’s out, a new king has to be found.
Yahweh has Samuel take a small container of olive and go to Bethlehem, and to find Jesse and his sons. Once there, Samuel tells the leaders he is there to worship and invites them to worship with him. Then he specifically asks Jesse and his sons to worship with him. One by one Jesse calls his son to meet Samuel. According to custom and convention, it is the eldest who is blessed, and Samuel thinks, what a fine king the eldest will make, but Yahweh says to him, “… Samuel, don’t think Eliab is the one just because he’s tall and handsome. He isn’t the one I’ve chosen. People judge others by what they look like, but I judge people by what is in their hearts.” So, one-by-one each son in turn by age met Samuel, and each one Yahweh said was not the “chosen one.” Puzzled, Samuel turns to Jesse and says is this all your sons, and Jesse replies, no, there is one more, the youngest, in the field taking care of the sheep.
“Send for him,” says Samuel. We cannot begin until all your sons are here. And David came, and as soon as Samuel laid eyes on him, Yahweh told Samuel, “He’s the one! Get up and pour the olive oil on his head.” And everyone watched the prophet anoint the youngest, the one least expected to be of any importance. And the spirit of Yahweh came over David, and from that moment on, he was the anointed.
The one least expected became king of the tribes of Israel. The one least expected became the king that would lead the tribes. He would lead them to become a social and political entity powerful enough to establish and hold “the promised land.”
We find the power of the story, not in the political and social realities, but in the figure of the “one least expected.” In an age where the oldest brother was always the “winner,” in a culture where lineage counted, it was the youngest son of Jesse who became king.
Anyone who has ever felt themselves to be the underdog, anyone who has ever felt left out, relegated to the margins, unfit or unworthy, this is the story for us. Anyone who has ever felt like they were always last, always an afterthought, always a tag-along, this is the story for us. For it is the story of hope.
I dare say, that even those who “look” like they are supposed to be first, the leaders, the fair-haired winners; I dare say, that even those who expect to be chosen, are no more secure within than any one else.
Life has a way of challenging us as we grow up. Situations for one sibling may give her or him courage, while the same situation brings about insecurity in another. A mother’s love given equally to her children, or perhaps what she believes is equality, is perceived differently by each child, so that one may feel loved her or his whole life, while another may feel neglected and abandoned. A father’s lessons for one son may be affirming; the same lessons for another son may be devastating. A parent’s blessing for a son’s wedding may be joyous for their son, yet painful for their daughter, who is not legally allowed to marry the woman she loves.
Life has a way of challenging us as we grow up and even as we live our grown-up lives. We have expectations of ourselves and of life’s circumstances. Expectations are sometimes filled, sometimes not, and sometimes what happens is the last thing we expect.
There is a story in the book Hope Rising about a young teenager. The book is a collection of stories about the youth who are helped by the “Ranch of Rescued Dreams.” It is a ranch where rescued horses are rehabilitated through patience and love. And these horses become riding companions for young people who are themselves in need of rescuing. The children, who are brought to this ranch, are all disadvantaged, traumatized, unwanted, or seriously challenged.
There is one story about a young girl who was blind from birth. I’m sure the last thing she expected out of life was to find a place where she would find any hope. But when she began to ride a horse for the first time, she said, “’I can tell that I am really high up in the air,’ … ‘it is very windy up here. I feel like I could fly. Yes, if I put my wings out … I can feel all my troubles blowing away.’”
Everyone, including young people, has “troubles,” but this young blind girl, I’m sure had more than the ordinary amount of challenges in her life. The last thing she probably expected was to find herself in a situation of delight and joy. And delight and joy can lead to hope.
As a society, as a people, we have expectations, expectations that may not be fulfilled.
Do you know the Sarah and Elisabeth Delaney? They wrote a book Having Our Say The Delaney Sisters’ First 100 Years. Sadie was born in 1889, and Bessie was born in 1891. Both were beautiful, educated women who grew up in North Carolina and moved to New York in their early twenties. Their father was the first black, elected black Bishop of the Episcopal Church of the USA. Sadie was the first African American woman ever to be allowed to teach Domestic Science in the state of New York. Her sister Bessie was the second black woman to be granted a dentistry license in New York state.
In their inspiring biography they talked a lot about American culture, society, and societal expectations. They tell the story about their brother Manross.
Like Manross, all the colored veterans came back [from World War I] just as proud as they could be, strutting around Harlem and everywhere else in the country in their uniforms. Manross and his buddies thought they had proved themselves. They thought they would surely come home and be treated like citizens. Manross was very disappointed, because white folks sometimes gave him dirty look or made nasty remarks when he’d wear his uniform. Manross said, ‘What more do I have to do to prove I’m an American, too’
Our second story from the Gospel of John tells us about one of Jesus’ miracles.
As Jesus walked along, he saw a blind man. When asked if this man was born blind because of his parents, Jesus answers, “No…” But, he adds, but because of his blindness you will see a miracle today. Jesus then said, “As long as it is day, we must do what the one who sent me wants me to do…” And Jesus spit on the ground, made some mud, and smeared it on the man’s eyes. Then he tells him to go to Siloam Pool and wash off the mud. When the man had washed off the mud, he could see. Siloam means “One Who Is Sent.”
Did the blind man every hope to see? Perhaps he wished it often, but realistically, to hope for sight in that time and place would probably not have even been possible for the man. His expectations were of a life of blindness, associated with the guilt of his parents. To be cured by Jesus was the last thing he expected.
Another aspect of the story is that the healing took place on the Sabbath. Of course, you know, the Pharisees were all over Jesus because he “worked” on the Sabbath. It was Jesus’ way of living out “the least expected life.”
The miracle, was it a real event or a literary device used by John to show Jesus doing what God called him to do?
It shows us that we are God’s hands and feet. If God is to do anything in this world, then we have to be the instruments of God’s will.
The young blind girl who rode on a horse and said, “I can feel all my troubles blowing away…” She was taken to a place built by a woman, Kim Meeder, had a vision, a calling. She and her husband built that ranch so they could save horses that could then in turn save the children who were brought there for healing.
God’s hands and feet, here on earth, healing those who need to be healed when they least expect it.
Jesus’ miracle shows us that we are God’s hands and feet. If God is to do anything in this world, then we have to be the instruments of God’s will.
Manross Delany came back from World War I, fully expecting that he had proven himself as an American and would be treated as a citizen with the full rights of citizenship. So, too, did the Black soldiers of World War II.
But were they, no. Not in the south, not any of their sisters and brothers were treated with equality and justice. In fact, in the south, the story is of a dark time of lynching and assassination and Jim and Jane Crowe. And if someone says, people of color were better off in the north, perhaps they were, but still, they were not treated with equality.
Here’s what it was really like in the north. Bessie Delany said, “I suppose I should be grateful to Columbia, that at that time they let in colored people. Well, I’m not. They let me in but they beat me down for being there!”
You know there’s an ol’ southern saying, “Up north Blacks can go as high as they want, but they’d better not get close; down south, Blacks can get as close as we like, but they’d better not get any higher than the Whites.”
And in Chicago, the story was no brighter than any where else.
Where were God’s hands and feet when Manross and his brother soldiers came back from the “great wars?”
I think for a very long time, not only in our country, but in the story of humankind, that God’s hands and feet that create equality and justice were disabled. And still are today in some ways.
But they went to work, here, and became visible in the 1960s. They marched and they sang, and they demonstrated, and they passed legislation and soon, more and more of us began to believe there was hope. Hope in the least expected. And there was the Civil Rights Bill and Affirmative Action and God’s hands and feet at the corporate level began to pass policies, and cities and town passed laws. And today, Manross would feel like millions of other people of color in the United States, that there was hope beyond the disappointment.
But the story of equality and justice are not over in the United States. Last week a recent survey showed that in the general population, one citizen in 100 was incarcerated. In the Hispanic population, 1 in 67, and in African Americans it is 1 in 36.
Where are God’s hands and feet today? We stare another kind of racist system in the face; we allow it to exist in our nation? It does not matter what our partisan politics are; what matters is that we have a flawed system of criminal justice in our country, and everyone, is called by Jesus’ example. I’m not the only person saying its flawed. People on all sides of the issue are frustrated and confounded.
We may have to spit on the ground, and get our hands dirty with mud, and face the Pharisees that tell us there’s nothing wrong, and what we are doing is wrong,
But,
We have work to do. God’s hands and feet can not sit idly by, and allow a system of crime and punishment that is unjust and unequal to exist in our nation. The least expected are called. God knows our hearts, God is calling us.
The Readings
Reading I 1 Samuel 16:1-13
One day he said, "Samuel, I've rejected Saul, and I refuse to let him be king any longer. Stop feeling sad about him. Put some olive oil in a small container and go visit a man named Jesse, who lives in Bethlehem. I've chosen one of his sons to be my king."
Samuel answered, "If I do that, Saul will find out and have me killed."
"Take a calf with you," the LORD replied. "Tell everyone that you've come to offer it as a sacrifice to me, then invite Jesse to the sacrifice. When I show you which one of his sons I have chosen, pour the olive oil on his head." Samuel did what the LORD told him and went to Bethlehem.
The town leaders went to meet him, but they were terribly afraid and asked, "Is this a friendly visit?"
"Yes, it is!" Samuel answered. "I've come to offer a sacrifice to the LORD. Get yourselves ready to take part in the sacrifice and come with me." Samuel also invited Jesse and his sons to come to the sacrifice, and he got them ready to take part. When Jesse and his sons arrived, Samuel noticed Jesse's oldest son, Eliab. "He has to be the one the LORD has chosen," Samuel said to himself.
But the LORD told him, "Samuel, don't think Eliab is the one just because he's tall and handsome. He isn't the one I've chosen. People judge others by what they look like, but I judge people by what is in their hearts."
Jesse told his son Abinadab to go over to Samuel, but Samuel said, "No, the LORD hasn't chosen him."
Next, Jesse sent his son Shammah to him, and Samuel said, "The LORD hasn't chosen him either."
Jesse had all seven of his sons go over to Samuel. Finally, Samuel said, "Jesse, the LORD hasn't chosen any of these young men. Do you have any more sons?"
"Yes," Jesse answered. "My youngest son David is out taking care of the sheep."
"Send for him!" Samuel said. "We won't start the ceremony until he gets here."
Jesse sent for David. He was a healthy, good-looking boy with a sparkle in his eyes. As soon as David came, the LORD told Samuel, "He's the one! Get up and pour the olive oil on his head." Samuel poured the oil on David's head while his brothers watched. At that moment, the Spirit of the LORD took control of David and stayed with him from then on.
Samuel returned home to Ramah.
Reading II John 9:1-13
As Jesus walked along, he saw a man who had been blind since birth. Jesus' disciples asked, "Teacher, why was this man born blind? Was it because he or his parents sinned?"
"No, it wasn't!" Jesus answered. "But because of his blindness, you will see God work a miracle for him. As long as it is day, we must do what the one who sent me wants me to do. When night comes, no one can work. While I am in the world, I am the light for the world."
After Jesus said this, he spit on the ground. He made some mud and smeared it on the man's eyes. Then he said, "Go and wash off the mud in Siloam Pool." The man went and washed in Siloam, which means "One Who Is Sent." When he had washed off the mud, he could see.
The man's neighbors and the people who had seen him begging wondered if he really could be the same man. Some of them said he was the same beggar, while others said he only looked like him.
But he told them, "I am that man."
"Then how can you see?" they asked.
He answered, "Someone named Jesus made some mud and smeared it on my eyes. He told me to go and wash it off in Siloam Pool. When I did, I could see."
"Where is he now?" they asked.
"I don't know," he answered.
The day when Jesus made the mud and healed the man was a Sabbath.