Sermon by Rev Sydney Maitland for Sunday 23 June 2024.
Saul and David – Rembrandt, 1650s (Source)
• First Reading: 1 Samuel 17: 57 – 18: 5, 10-16 ()
• Epistle: 2 Corinthians 6: 1-13 ()
• Gospel: Mark 4: 35-41 ()
One of the mercies of our General Election campaign is that the main protagonists are not presenting themselves as either entertainers or religious leaders. Those who stray into this territory have been soon pressed on that they are and what they say and this is not a very agreeable experience.
At least that is one consolation.
And yet we have all experienced the performances of the ‘Big Personalities’ for whom appearance and image are more important than that they say or whether it adds up to anything sensible.
And this is an interesting comparison with what was happening to David of Bethlehem. Yes, he had rejected the heavy armour and weapons of the king’s entourage in favour of travelling light and fighting even lighter.
But then he was presented to King Saul who kept him nearby. David was to be part of the king’s household – possibly for the sake of and as a reward for his success in battle.
But it then emerged that Saul was growing restless and anxious. David was getting just a little too successful – and he had made a deep impression on Jonathan, Saul’s son.
This was a deep friendship and a bonding in the spirit. They thought as one and their loyalties and their faith matched perfectly. There is definitely no suggestion of any kind of erotic bonding here. Both had a deep and abiding faith on God and which came before any other such considerations.
And so David could put his success down to his trust in God: ‘The Lord is MY shepherd …’ which he allied to his native intelligence, skills and wit.
It was God who defined who and what David was, and all the rest came after – and so he would be able to cope with rejection, persecution, and even his personal sins did not push him away from his utter faith in God.
This was a faith which upheld him both in times of trial – and in times of success. The Lord was always there, giving him security in his rest and plenty in his refreshment.
Looking at Mark’s account of Jesus on the lake, we find an interesting demonstration of His authority over the storm.
Mark was writing mainly for Roman readers and was interested in the marks of Jesus’ authority.
He had shown His authority over evil and dark spirits; and over disease. Yes, healers might do that.
He had shown His authority over the dreaded leprosy, and yet had been willing to call a Roman-collaborating tax collector to His side as a disciple. He had made it clear that He could also redefine the observance of the Sabbath.
Jesus was one whose teaching was authoritative, establishing principles not just for social harmony but for peace with God.
And yet on the lake, in the midst of a threatening squall, Jesus had stood up and taken authority over the elements of the weather.
And so the disciples who were already impressed by His presence and His teaching were wondering what else there was to this man. Not just what was He, but who was He that He should have such command over even the weather.
Far more than a wondering preacher and healer and an inspiration to the poor. More than a teller of truths who could speak more persuasively than any formal preacher or academic theologian.
He was more than just another religious leader, and He was clearly not interested in politics. In this, He had more important and more lasting things to attend to. Politicians and their interests, their claims to justice and their exercise of power, would come and go. This was more important.
Each king and ruler would have their own regime to do as they willed – so long as they survived the revenge of their enemies and the covetousness of their neighbours.
But Paul provides more insight into the ministry of the gospel, started by Jesus, continued in himself and handed on to later generations.
Again the task was defined by the gospel message, and all else fell into place behind it.
He might be personally stretched by hostility and deprivation. He might be at risk of being beaten up, exhausted and rejected.
But the message was worth all of that and more. It was central to his very being, and its starting point was not in himself but in the things of God.
It was the total, self-giving love of God, determined to rescue the whole of humanity and going to the most extreme measures to do so.
It was the glory and wonder of His mercy and His wisdom, which were to be found, not in learned texts written in some unlearnable language but in the observable life and death of His Son, Jesus Christ.
This was what put fuel into his tank and fire into his belly. This was what sustained him within the most pressing of trials.
And so for us, the starting point is not our comfort or convenience, but in utter glory and majesty of the love of God in Jesus. Never just a feeling or an emotion – rather a living truth that transcends all other realities.
And yes, its takes us up into itself: past, present and future.
