Sunday, February 12, 2012

I Cannot Walk In These


1 Samuel 17:31-40

          
            The tribal chief of a large unchartered territory in central Africa did not greet the man standing before him by saying, “Dr. Livingstone, I presume?”    He instead stood there silently and expectantly, waiting for the nineteenth century Scottish medical missionary, explorer and evangelist to follow the local custom.    There would be no access to the vast territory until the chief was allowed to survey, choose and keep something from Dr. Livingstone’s personal belongings.    He would then give something of his own to the missionary in return.
            So clothing, books, a watch, and several other items from the doctor’s sparse possessions were spread out before the chief.    He also made available something he truly needed – a goat whose milk helped sooth the doc’s chronic stomach condition.    You can guess exactly what the chief wanted to keep.   Despite his dismay, and for the sake of the Gospel, Livingstone gave up the goat.    He then waited with high expectation that he’d be given something equally valuable in return.
            The chief gave him … a stick.   Well, more precisely, a walking stick.   The doctor’s bubble of expectation evaporated in bitter disappointment.  He couldn’t grasp how a walking stick could do anything for him compared to the goat that kept him well.    He felt angry – at the bum exchange and even at God.   But then a local tribesman offered a word of explanation.    The chief’s gift was not some wooden crutch whatsoever.  It was his very own scepter, the very item that made it possible to enter into every village in his vast territory.   Dr. Livingstone had presumed wrong.   He had not been cheated by the chief or by God.   He and his mission of expanding the Gospel had instead been very greatly honored and blessed.   
            When our expectations of others and of certain plans burst, a couple things can typically happen.   We can sink into resentful disappointment and despair over what we do not have.   We can trap ourselves inside a narrative about being cheated.   And most perplexing and unhealthy of all, we can fail to acknowledge and appreciate the significance of good and helpful things that have been provided for our benefit.     
            This all also applies to our faithful expectations.      We can easily get to griping about God failing to provide us something we felt sure we had need of, something we expected to be blessed with.    When caught up in this griping, we can then sadly lose sight of the good things and greater (though perhaps yet unknown) purposes of what God has given us already.
            Our scripture lesson today has to do with expectations.   It is from the familiar story of David, divinely anointed king of Israel in his youth, and the Philistine giant warrior, Goliath of Gath.    The Veggie Tales animated kids version of this story is the most entertaining … you just can’t beat the site and sound of Goliath as a giant pickle and David as an asparagus sprout!
            This is a heroic story.   We love it when our expectations are surprised and reversed as the little guy, the underdog, rises up to successfully beat the odds.    It gives us hope for the times we feel small and up against a wall.    And David – who according the Bible’s description was a beautiful-eyed, handsome, lyre-instrument playing shepherd boy – sure was in this jam when he chose to go up against the enormously sized and life-long trained enemy warrior.    
            What I find most inspiring and heroic, however, isn’t his remarkable and commonly recalled victory via a very accurate sling-shot of a wadi stone.   This was the method, but the integrity of the means is what most matters.   David glorified God and helped advance God’s good dominion simply by being true to himself.    He was true to who God created him to be and to God’s calling in his life.   He didn’t size up the task and then start some sort of radical, Rocky eating raw eggs and running up and down the Philly Art Museum routine to transform himself for the epic battle.   He didn’t puff himself up with pride and bravado intent on proving himself to his three older brothers.   He didn’t present himself as anyone or anything other than the faithful sheep corralling kid from Bethlehem, the youngest and least likely to fight son of Jesse.  
            How wonderful to have young David’s faith – to have such confidence and courage in yourself, in your God-given and blessed abilities, and in your steadfast belief that the power of God is your true strength and shield, the protector of your family and your people.    
             This inspiring portrait of young David is reinforced by what I find to be one of the most comical scenes in all of Scripture.  Again, he didn’t suffer the weight of expectations.  Until, that is, Israel’s King Saul placed some upon him.  Literally.     And these expectations did not fit.  It happened right after David argued before the king that his volunteering to take on Goliath wasn’t as crazy as it sounded.    His shepherding of sheep in Bethlehem fields also meant he had to fight off wild beasts.    He hadn’t just been lazing about strumming the lyre all night and day.   “Whenever a lion or bear came and took a lamb from the flock,” he explained, “I went after it and struck it down, rescuing the lamb … the Lord, who saved me from the paw of the lion and from the paw of the bear, will save me from the hand of this Philistine.”   For David, volunteering to do combat with this enormous enemy threat was really just an extension of his regular shepherding duties under the care of the Almighty.    
            His words were enough to convince the king to send him.    Saul stated his expectation that the Lord would be with David and then the king did something else in line with his expectations.  To fight Goliath, he expected David to wear the right protective gear.    So this is what he placed upon the lamb defending lad.    
            Here’s where it becomes a comical read to me.  Just picture a strong but smallish boy standing there outfitted in the adult-sized armor of a king.  Picture him with an oversized bronze helmet on his head, with a sword probably at long as he was tall strapped to him, and draped in chain mail.   It’d be a little like outfitting me with Brandon Jacobs uniform (you had to know I’d slip in some Super Bowl winning Giants reference in a story about a Giant).    David knew right away how ridiculous it was to try and be somebody else in this situation.   So he cast off the king’s expectations and bluntly declared, “I cannot walk in these.”   He then removed it all and walked ahead in his own skin and simple shepherding garb.   He knew he didn’t need all that added protection and garb of expectation … since his faithful expectation of God’s protection was more than enough!
            Everything that happened after that is what is most remembered in this historic, heroic story.    Sling. Thump. Surprise. Triumph.  The radical rite of passage for Israel’s divinely anointed future King complete.     Exciting stuff.   But may we never overlook the heart of the matter that prepared his heart and mind to faithfully lead the flock of Israel.   David’s crucial decision to go forth to the glory of God just by being his blessed self and by faithfully trusting in the good and helpful things God had provided for him means everything to this story.    
            How much time have you spent time getting to know who God intends you to be?   How intentional have you been about making time to assess your God-given giftedness and how this can help advance the Gospel even if others don’t expect it of you?   Every time you say the Lord’s prayer, do you deeply trust you will be delivered from evil?    Do you, and do we have together, faith enough to see simple things such as walking sticks and sling shots, shared prayers and modest budgets, kind words and helpful hands … as more than what we could ever possibly expect them to be in service to our Lord?   Amen.  
             

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