Sermon of the Week
Courage for Lent: The One with Heart
A sermon preached at The Kirk of Kansas City, Missouri, on March 22, 2020.
The fourth of a five part sermon series for Lent. #pcusa
Keywords: King David, Man Born Blind, Literary Analysis, Brene Brown, Fred Rogers, Heart, Coronavirus.
Scripture readings (which you may wish to read prior):
John 9:1-12
and 1 Samuel 16:1-13
Like their parents, my daughters aren’t quite sure what to make of the fact
that there will not be any more in-person classes at school this academic year.
We got the word last week when we were out of town,
in Florida, trying to take a much-needed rest from school and work and life
and, instead, finding that this novel coronavirus
was more dangerous than anyone quite had thought
and so we needed to come home early, and we did,
home to self-quarantine and shelter in place orders,
checking in with our family and our friends and our neighbors,
and, for our kids, trying to come to grips with the fact that
they won’t be going back to middle school.
All of us are feeling disoriented. Disrupted.
I know I am.
Mixtures of emotions, for sure: happy for some time at home with family,
quite sad that we’re not able to see our friends in person again for a while,
maybe a long while,
not so sure how we feel
about not diving into the stress of school work right away,
but absolutely sure that the stress of these current moments is enough,
thank you very much.
I’ve been talking with them about their school work lately,
even before all of this.
I don’t want to go too deeply into this,
I don’t really mean to bring them into the middle of a sermon,
but they said something lately about school
that has impacted how I’ve been reacting
to these two stories from the bible that are before us today.
In 8th grade English, apparently, you learn a lot about how to study a story.
You explore metaphor, symbolism,
figurative vs literal speech,
foreshadowing and allusion,
all great things to think about,
all topics that are in a modern preacher’s toolbox
when we sit down to try to understand a passage of scripture
like the story of Jesus’ encounter with the Man Born Blind
or the ancient story of the selection of David to be the new King of Israel
a new King because God had decided that the existing King, King Saul,
wasn’t the right kind of King for that moment.
I spent a lot of time in Seminary working on some of those very techniques
so I could try to understand these Biblical stories better too….
and they’re important, because John uses a lot of symbols to get his point across:
elements like light and water–for-washing and even the faculty of sight,
because the guy who wrote the book we call the gospel of John
is trying to get the reader to see
that this Jesus is someone unique, someone important…
someone sent by God to heal and to bring compassion to a hurting world.
He literally says that phrase a lot in his Gospel: “come and see.”
So the writer of John likes to use metaphor and symbol to point to Jesus.
There’s a lot of symbolism in the other reading too,
the story of the selection of David:
there’s a flask of oil, which is the traditional way a King would be made the king,
someone duly appointed would anoint them with it,
literally pour the oil over their head like a crown,
so the flask of oil has a lot of meaning, foreshadowing at the start of the story;
then there’s the familiar motif in the Hebrew Bible of the selection of the youngest
an inversion of the traditional way that power was conveyed, right,
we expect responsibility to be handed down to the oldest, to the first born,
but time and time again, in the Hebrew Bible,
it is the unexpected one, the youngest, who steps up, who is called:
so it was for Isaac, not his brother Esau
and for Joseph, and that amazing technicolor dreamcoat,
not one of his 11 older brothers,
and so it will be for King David.
So David fits into a biblical motif, a trope, that we could explore,
noting how David was not even included by his father,
because he was tasked to be working in the fields…
there’s no way Samuel would want David to be a part of the dinner party,
let him tend the sheep.
It is the same sort of motif you get in our modern-day stories
like Cinderella or Rey from the more recent Star Wars movies,
where the one seen as the least plausible, most unlikely, most marginalized
that person becomes the central figure of the story.
All of these are great things to analyze in an English class,
or in a sermon, for sure.
And this helps us understand the God that these stories are trying to describe for us,
the same God that loves the Samaritan woman at the well,
and the pharisee Nicodemus,
the two central characters of the last few weeks,
implausible, unlikely people
through whom the love and the compassion of God would be made real.
There is a time and a place for that kind of reflection,
and it helps us dig deeper, sometimes.
And I kind of love doing that sort of work.
But sometimes it makes sense to just look at the story as a story, too,
to not feel like you have to go too deep underneath it to learn something from it.
Yesterday, when we were talking with our kids
about all of this stuff going on and about school and quarantines and
and about trying to give ourselves permission to adapt to the circumstances
and to not put too much pressure on ourselves to have everything worked out just yet,
one of my daughters said something like,
“Yeah, it feels so good to read a book right now
without having to analyze it for a class.”
To read it and just take the story in and try to get its point from the narrative. [Read more…]