IT’S HARD TO BE KING
A sermon preached by
Rev. Dr. Randle R. (Rick) Mixon
First Baptist Church, Palo Alto, CA
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Text: 2 Samuel 6; Mark 6:14-29
Today marks my third anniversary as your pastor. Among other indicators, including my aging body, I know this is so because we have completed one full lectionary cycle. The lectionary cycle is designed to lead us through the entire Bible in three years. I know we’re starting over because the focus text for today, 2 Samuel 6, is the same text I preached from on my first Sunday here. I’m sure you all vividly remember that sermon, “When Baptists Dance.” On that celebrative Sunday there was a fortuitous converging of text and occasion. As the compilers of the lectionary so often do, they have culled out the joyous dimensions of this chapter and left the troublesome parts behind. That works fine on a Sunday when joy and celebration are the order of the day, but does it really do justice to the scripture?
On further review, it appears that 2 Samuel 6 is a much more complex text than the lectionary compilers present. It is true that David dances before God and the Ark with all his might, that he is ecstatic in his celebration of the coming of the Ark to his new capital in Jerusalem, that he is generous in sharing the celebration with his people. But there are also clear markers in this passage of how hard it is to be king – any time, really – but especially when you have risen to the role from humble beginnings. It is the shepherd boy of Bethlehem, who has become the powerful ruler of the Promised Land and God’s chosen people. For good and ill, he retains some of the boy’s exuberant and passionate love of life. This exuberance and passion gets him into trouble in his kingly role.
We actually have two dramatic tales today about the risks and responsibilities of being king. Both David and Herod Antipas have long reigns, both of today’s texts show them challenged in their ruling, both get caught in the middle of difficult situations. David has come to the throne over the bodies of his nemesis, Saul, first king of Israel, and his beloved friend, Jonathan, son of Saul and rightful heir to the throne. Perhaps, it is not surprising that Michal, daughter of Saul and sister of Jonathan, is not thrilled to be saddled in marriage to this rough-hewn usurper. There is a sense in this passage that she looks down her royal nose in disdain for this upstart, popular hero to whom her father has given her in marriage. One might imagine how, as a woman of refinement, raised in a royal household, the brash David is too much for her. He just does not seem to know or care how a king should behave. It could also be that she has deep-seated anger that her father and brother have been killed in battle while this ruffian has survived to rule in their stead.
At their demise, David has become not only the king of Judah but the great unifier of the northern and southern tribes into one kingdom. In building his own capital in Jerusalem, he is moving to cement this coming together of the disparate tribes into a great nation. He is clearly visionary and ambitious. Obviously David is a savvy leader and the great uniter of his people. Bringing the Ark to Jerusalem is an essential element in his plan to unite the tribes and centralize his rule in his new capital. It is difficult for us to understand all of what it means to be king in a theocracy, but David is not just the political ruler of his people, he is also their religious leader. He is not only expected to rule wisely, he is also expected to pay close attention to God’s will for his people. He rules by the grace and in the name of God. So, as unfamiliar as it might seem to us, his ecstatic participation in the movement of the Ark has both political and religious connotations. I suspect that most Americans would not expect or countenance President Obama’s doing a dance of unbridled joy before a religious artifact of any sort.
The journey of the Ark and David’s journey to wisdom and understanding in his kingly role is interrupted when the Ark seems to shift on the cart and the faithful Uzzah reaches out to steady it or slips and falls against it and is struck dead on the spot. Here the king learns a lesson about limits. In the Jewish tradition of his time no one sees the face of God and lives, no one comes so close to the awesome power of God and survives. The significance of the Ark in the lives of these people was that it was where God’s presence was most concentrated on all the earth. David is angry because he must delay his kingly design and take time to consider the significance of what he is trying to achieve. He cannot just use God for his own purposes but must wait for God to move in God’s own time and way, so the Ark sits at the home of Obed-Edom for three months before the journey can continue. And in the continuation of the journey, David is even more careful to follow God’s lead as he brings the Ark into the city in worshipful rejoicing. It’s hard to be king, to get everything just right.
When Michal sees the parade, she responds in negative fashion. She is unhappy to see her husband engaged in such a blatant display of eroticism, pandering to the public. From her perspective it is disgraceful for the king to engage in such a public display, regardless of the state of joy and religious ecstasy in which he may find himself. There also seems to be a significant measure of jealousy related to his exposing himself before young maidens. (Apparently a linen ephod leaves little to the imagination, especially when one is leaping and dancing.) But David is indignant at Michal’s charges and insists that his dance of joy is a tribute to life and the God who gives it; her negative critique, her dumping cold water on his heated dance of life, her raining on his parade, apparently costs her her relationship with her powerful husband. The text says she remains alone and unfulfilled for the rest of her days.
Herod’s tale is a quite different one, but he, too, finds it hard to be king. Herod Antipas, one of the sons of Herod the Great, ruled the northern part of the kingdom, including Galilee. Following in his father’s footsteps, he ruled with guile and tyranny, secured by Roman force. Though he had a long rule, he was a relatively weak ruler. As with many in power, he did not deal easily or well with criticism or challenge. Herod gets trapped by the expectations of his kingly role and his unwillingness to move beyond them. Herod becomes caught in the middle between his fear of the people uprising and fear of his wife and the rules of court. David risks the ire of his royal wife and courtiers, Herod will not.
As despotic as he might have been in his rule, he was also fascinated by the wild and wily prophet, John. In spite of John’s condemnation of him for marrying his brother’s wife, something about John appealed to Herod’s higher self, his religious sensibility. “Herod feared John, knowing that he was a righteous and holy man, and he protected him. When he heard him, he was greatly perplexed; and yet he liked to listen to him.” Though Herod’s rule was largely political, he still had to account for the religious sensibilities of his people, for they were strongly and passionately held, and apparently he had some spiritual sensitivity of his own. There seems to have been an unfulfilled longing in him to be seen as a real ruler of the Jewish people, one of their own, despite his suspicious background and Roman collaboration. It’s hard to be king.
But he is king and he is bound by the expectations of those around him along with his own expectations of what it means to be king. He is not wholly free to do as he wills. Once he has pledged his word in public, he feels he must keep it all costs. In this case, it means he must accede to the grisly execution of this prophet whom he so much admires. Again, the king is challenged by an angry, vengeful wife. Herodias uses her own young daughter to curry the king’s favor and do away with the one who keeps reminding her of the evil of her ways. She seeks the demise of this haranguing prophet who keeps calling her out for her wickedness. Like Michal she understands the ways of royalty, but unlike Michal, Herodias is successful in using them to get her way.
It is hard to be king, difficult to be the leader, challenging to walk the walk among expectations of role, the desires of competing parties and people and in the service of God. The truth is that God never wanted a king for God’s people. God meant to be their king and all the king they would ever need. But we mortals want what we want; we insist on royalty. We want kings and queens to rule our countries, to shape our culture, to define social classes, to create fashion and to model celebrity. We would rather look to those who promise to lead us with earthly power than to God who made us and desires to lead us with such ineffable love and grace. There are stars who flash across our skies, promising us everything from unlimited power and wealth to fame to security to the latest fashion. The problem is it is damned hard work to be a star, to glow constantly and brightly, to keep the promises and live up to expectations. It’s hard to be king, to fulfill the role of royalty. God knew that when God gave into our demands. A huge part of God’s grace and love is to grant us the freedom to try it our way, to make our own messes, to bump up against our own limits. David and Herod both learned these truths the hard way.
In the end, God sent Jesus to show us what true kingship is all about. David danced around it, Herod longed for the reality of it, but Jesus lived it. The kingship of Jesus is also hard but it is not about power and glory, prestige and privilege. The kingship of Jesus is the very hard work of love – love of God from which flows love for all creation – family, friends, neighbors, strangers, enemies, the green earth. The old hymn says the, “The king of love my shepherd is whose goodness faileth never.” Jesus, king of the poor, the outcast, the down trodden, the common folk. Do we, like the disciples, still think of real kingship in the Davidic or Herodian mode? Do we still struggle to see that Jesus is a different kind of king – the king of love, the king of compassion, the king of justice and of peace. It’s hard to be king, especially that kind of king, and it seems even harder to get people to follow.
Do we ever feel anything like David’s elation in the presence and service of God? Do we ever know Herod’s fascination with a strange and challenging prophetic voice? Do we ever hear King Jesus calling us to follow? Unfortunately, kingship bridles David’s passion. Sadly, kingship attenuates Herod’s desire to know and understand. Even Jesus’ claims of kingship cost him his life. It’s hard to be king, but we need not necessarily be caught up in all these hardships. No one expects any of us to be king. We are free to explore our feelings of ecstasy and of wonder and of self giving. So, where do we find our joy, our bliss, our fulfillment? What challenges our spiritual development and growth? In whom do we find solace and comfort? What does it mean for our little community to be part of the kingdom of God? What must we do to bring the kingdom of God to reality in the face of all the kings of this world? It’s hard to be king. What might we do to make the job just a little easier for this curious king we follow, this king of love and grace?