Pentecost 9

Aug 10 - 16

1 & 2 Samuel, 1 Corinthians

From a window, Michal looks on as the celebratory procession moves through Jerusalem, carrying the Ark of the Covenant into the city. Her father, Saul, and his sons are all dead, and David has ascended to the throne. As the shouts and horn blasts echo through the streets, she notices that this new king is not wearing royal clothing, but a linen ephod, the customary clothing of priests. Before the Ark, David’s reverance and dedication to the LORD overflow into a leaping dance. This infuriates Michal. No real king would debase himself in this way. In the eyes of the world, perhaps, this might be true. But David recognizes that all his success, authority, and blessing come from the LORD – and he wants the people to see it.

In the New Testament, the Corinthian church seems to be struggling with a similar impulse. Rather than recognizing Jesus Christ as Lord of the church, they seem to be dedicating themselves to the teachings of individual men, like Paul or Apollos. But Paul firmly sets them straight: those called by God to bear the Gospel should be seen as servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God. Such leaders will look like fools to the world, but, like David, it is not earthly glory they seek.

So it often is with our own sinful flesh. When it sees the procession of believers and their leaders serving and praising the Lord with all their might, it looks unbecoming. We would prefer to dress ourselves in royal clothing and be impressive to the world. Like David’s predecessor, we might acknowledge the Lord from time to time when it benefits our earthly interests. We may even listen to the Samuels of our day when the Word is preached, but to take it to heart would be to give up the throne.

That king has been usurped by the Lord in baptism, and his constant rebellion is put down with every confession and absolution, every Lord’s Supper, and the preaching of the Word. The Lord rules over the heart and the church. In the place of a king grows a servant who strives to serve faithfully with joy and praise.

Pentecost 8

Aug 3 - 9

1 Samuel, Acts, 1 Corinthians

David’s brothers watch with a mixture of disbelief, anger, and envy as he stoops to gather stones from the river’s edge. Word about their little brother has spread through the panic-stricken Israelite camp, how a shepherd boy with no military training has talked the king into letting him take up Goliath’s challenge – without armor. This does not look like it will end well.

That kind of incredulity comes naturally to our flesh. The threats we fear the most, whether spiritual or physical, individually or as a church, present themselves as indomitable Goliaths, flexing worldly muscle and taunting our faith. It is a vivid illustration of our spiritual state: unequal to our enemy, we are doomed to certain death. Who can save us?

Just as David didn’t look like the warrior Isreal thought it needed, it is easy for us to doubt Jesus as our Savior, to see him the way the world does, as a wise but oudated teacher who cannot overcome its present troubles. But, as Paul stresses to the Corinthians, it is not human eloquence, intellect, reputation, or power that God uses to bring about our salvation. That can only be found in Christ himself.

So young David confronts fear with a truth his people have forgotten: Who is this Goliath to our Lord? His herosim is a picture of what God would accomplish in Christ, the Messiah, who would rescue the world, not from political annhiliation, but spiritual condemnation. Goliath is not slain by wordly weapons, but by the Lord – in the absolution we receive in his name, in the preaching and study of his Word, in his body and blood in the Sacrament. The trembling fear need not run through our camp, but rather shouts of joy and triumph. Our victory is certain. Goliath is dead. Our salvation is at hand.