Sunday, October 21, 2012

David vs. Exile: What happens when we stare death in the face




            The theologian, Walter Brueggemann, once wrote about this passage in particular, saying, “I judge this oracle with its unconditional promise to David to be the most crucial theological statement in the Old Testament.”[1] In other words, one of the finest late-twentieth to early-twenty-first century Old Testament thinkers believes that this is the most important passage this side of Jesus. Then it would stand to reason it should affect us in some way. But at first blush it’s hard to see how. So, God promised David a kingdom forever. What does that have to do with us?
            Firstly, let's set the scene: the prophet Nathan brings a message from God to David, who has decided to build a temple—or “house”—for God. God’s responds by saying that he doesn’t need to live in a house, and in fact what really matters is not the house David builds for God but the house God is making for David; not a house made of bricks or wood, but a dynasty. At the heart of Nathan’s message are two verses

“When your days are fulfilled and you lie down with your ancestors, I will raise up your offspring after you, who shall come forth from your body, and I will establish his kingdom. He shall build a house for my name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever” (2 Sam 7:12-13).

This is God’s big promise: David and his descendants will be on the throne forever. But it’s also a strange promise if you know the history of Israel, because it wasn’t long after this that the people were exiled into Babylon, the temple was destroyed; and the promise seemed to be broken. So how can this be the most important statement in the entire Old Testament when only a few generations later it seems like it was all a lie?
Either God broke his promise, or the promise wasn’t quite what the people expected.
As it turns out, Israel discovered what was true about God only when it looked as if the promise were broken. When they were exiled in Babylon their God was not defeated; instead, God went with them into exile. 
We face the same critical questions today that the Israelites did in the exile. We are part of what is so often called the “declining church.” Something like 1-2% of mainline Protestant church members are leaving the ranks every year—often from death or apathy—and this decline has been ongoing for the better part of thirty years. That’s a massive exodus of people from the institutional church. You don’t need to be told this; you’ve lived it. This is the reality in Kittson County and Grand Forks and Minneapolis and Atlanta; it’s happening just about everywhere. The fastest growing religious group in the United States—for the first time ever—is the “Nones,” by which is meant those who claim no religious affiliation. The promise seems broken. The dynasty seems for all intents and purposes to be dying along with the institutional church.
So, is that really what’s going on here? Are we actually dying? For that matter, was the promise broken when the Israelites were sent into exile?
Everyday, our world bears evidence against the legacy of David; every day our world rejects Jesus Christ as the final heir to the throne. This never happens more these days than when our churches moan about decline; when we live as if there is not enough. We have so much to complain about—have you noticed this?—the economy, natural disasters, hunger, corporate greed, and everything else that is wrong with the world. Everyday we talk as if the world is going to hell, as if the enemy is secularization, politicians, economic policies and the like. Each and every day we are being taught to believe that the reign of David is over; that the promise that God makes to David is no longer applicable; that we’re living in an age of despair and hopelessness; that the good days are behind us.
The funny this is: nearly every generation feels this way. Nearly every generation has believed the world was going down the tubes and the next generation would be worse than the last. And yet, we’re still here. When we find ourselves thinking this is the worst of all bad times in the history of the world we have to get over ourselves and our simplistic perspectives.
God’s promise to David is no more broken today than it was in the exile. When the people of Israel were forced from their land they discovered that God did not reside in a house. Today, we are in a place to discover again that God does not live in the church building or in the things we do. The promise doesn’t mean more if we have a beautiful sanctuary or a run-down shack. That’s what Israel learns in exile. When everything physical that we value decays and dies the promise God made to us does not die with it; in fact, the promise is the only thing left. Why do you think the areas of the most vibrant faith in the world today are places like Sub-Saharan Africa, rural China and the poorest areas of Central and South America? Why does it always seem that the oppressed have the strongest faith?
Maybe it’s because we’re too comfortable; too brainwashed to believe that we’re entitled to a good life and that God is a nice idea for Sunday mornings.
Or for that matter, why do people listen more closely at a funeral than during Sunday morning worship?
Maybe because it’s the only time that the life-and-death nature of everything we talk about in worship hits us between the eyes. If that’s the case—if we can’t live as if worship and everything else that we do together as the people of God is important enough to impact our lives—then we’re not going to realize it when the death of the church is finally staring us in the face.
The death of the church is not today… but maybe it should be.
David does not realize the power of the promise until he has made the biggest mistake of his life, until he has slept with Bathsheba and sentenced her husband to death; only then does he discover that his sins have caused the death of his son. Yet, at the same time, David discovers that the promise is not broken because of his indiscretions. God will stick with him in spite of his selfishness and greed. That’s the promise we all have, and I suppose it’s why this is the most important statement in the Old Testament. We are God’s people, which means firstly that we are going to fall short of God’s expectations for us—we’re going to talk about things like declining numbers rather than Jesus; we’re going to concern ourselves with looking decent to the rest of the world rather than worshiping as if nothing else matters; we’re going to hang on tightly to what we have rather than giving away with abandon the gifts we have been given.
Nonetheless, the kingdom of God will be unmoved by our mistakes, irrespective of what we do to try to push Jesus out of our lives. The promise God makes remain resolute. When we get bound up in statistics and polls and politics and church polity the first thing we forget is Jesus. God’s promise to David can be that reminder for you: nothing will separate you from the love of God; not anything you hear on the news; not anything your neighbor tells you in hate; not anything you tell your neighbor in return.
This is the good news of God in as tidy a fashion this side of the New Testament. That is why this may be the most critical statement of faith ever made before the coming of Christ. It’s a promise worth living into today.
Amen.


[1] Interpretation: First and Second Samuel. John Knox Press: Louisville, KY; 1990, p. 259.

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