Sermons from Park Hill Congregational UCC Denver, Colorado Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] July 22, 2018 “Let America Be America Again” 2nd Samuel 7: 1-7 – The Message 1-2 Before long, the king made himself at home and God gave him peace from all his enemies. Then one day King David said to Nathan the prophet, “Look at this: Here I am, comfortable in a luxurious house of cedar, and the Chest of God sits in a plain tent.” 3 Nathan told the king, “Whatever is on your heart, go and do it. God is with you.” 4-7 But that night, the word of God came to Nathan saying, “Go and tell my servant David: This is God’s word on the matter: You’re going to build a ‘house’ for me to live in? Why, I haven’t lived in a ‘house’ from the time I brought the children of Israel up from Egypt till now. All that time I’ve moved about with nothing but a tent. And in all my travels with Israel, did I ever say to any of the leaders I commanded to shepherd Israel, ‘Why haven’t you built me a house of cedar?’ What are the signs that someone has too much time on their hands? The neighbor who puts up 100,000 Christmas lights? I did a little crowd-sourcing on Facebook for some ideas. Their replies included spending too much time on Facebook! Watching Rachel Maddow obsessively. Hey now! Shopping every day. Posting too many selfies. Keeping a white car clean. I have a white car but it is definitely not clean. By Friday morning my question had elicited more than 30 replies, including a colleague who explained, “In 12-step language, it's when someone else takes your 4th step inventory.”[1] Lots of really thoughtful replies. Of course, you may laugh at the idea that anyone could have too much time on their hands. But ask a student ready to go back to school. Why? To have some regular routine back in their life, and lunch. Ask someone who’s just retired. They haven’t yet discovered they’ll soon be busier than they’ve ever been. Too much time on his hands? Ask the king who has won all his battles and now has nothing better to do. That’s how my train of thought began on this passage; but more on that later. I was at a meeting this week at which someone made the comment, “I hope things aren’t really as bad as they seem on the news.” It was a harmless statement. She didn’t mean anything more than to express hope. In my typically cheerful way, I replied, “No, they’re worse.” It kind of dropped the mic on the room! But while we’re overjoyed that the soccer team was rescued in Thailand, we can’t forget the kids locked in cages in America. They may not still be wrapped in foil blankets, but thousands are not yet wrapped in their parent’s arms. And some may never be. But the news media has moved on. It’s hard to blame them. There is too much to cover. There just isn’t enough time. Nor, perhaps, the will or even ability to pay attention to that much bad news. Emotionally, spiritually, psychologically… Time is precious. And as Robin Wilkerson replied, “only worth the value we assign it.” And yet time is also a privilege. It isn’t available in the same way for everyone, like anyone who has to take two buses to go from their first job to their second one. It isn’t available in the same way for those caring for their children one minute and their parents the next. You get the idea. Discretionary time can be just as valuable as discretionary money. Yet, supposing most of us have at least some measure of control over our time, how do we choose to spend it? Attending church is a choice you make, and I assure you, I take that into consideration every week. To try to make my sermons worth your time. Since the election of 2016, I have been heartened by how many people have chosen to spend their time engaged in improving our communities. At the last Indivisible Denver meeting, there were more than 100 people in here on a hot, sweaty Sunday afternoon. Hot outside; sweltering inside. Just one group. How many hundreds of thousands of people have attended one march after another? Made phone calls, written letters. How many millions gathered for the Women’s Marches? And yet, no disrespect meant, but Mexicans and Muslims and refugees and immigrants and people living paycheck to paycheck from Appalachia to the Zuni Pueblo have been asking for that same time and attention for a long time. The Rev. William Barber says, we need to “stop acting as though Trump is the first.”[2] But then get to work because it’s still better to be late than never. Langston Hughes is one of the poet geniuses of the Harlem Renaissance. His most famous poem asks, “What happens to a dream deferred?” Another poem from 1938, declares “Let America be America again”[3] but adds, “America never was America to me.” “And yet,” he said, And yet I swear this oath-- America will be! Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death, The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies, We, the people, must redeem The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers. The mountains and the endless plain-- All, all the stretch of these great green states-- And make America again! Meaning, the dream of America. Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed-- Let it be that great strong land of love Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme That any man be crushed by one above. O, let my land be a land where Liberty Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath, But opportunity is real, and life is free, Equality is in the air we breathe. 1938. He calls it “my land,” yet he reminds us, “There’s never been equality for me, nor freedom in this ‘homeland of the free.’” It never was America to me. So what does it mean, then, to say, “Let America be America again?” A memory once dreamed? An unfulfilled promise? It’s a privilege to even ask. Is it a time that has already been or a time that has yet to be? It’s part of the conflict of being America in the time of Trump. It’s all of it. A few have already experienced America, yet it’s the paradox of Langston Hughes. Who are we? So, back to King David. (It all ties together. I hope!) What caught my imagination as this story began was a man who had nothing but time on his hands. Who was he? Picture it: King David rambling around his immense mansion, wearing his robe and slippers, picking up objects, like vases and candlesticks, admiring each of them, putting them down. Walking out onto the veranda to view the scenes of his kingdom below, pacing a little, and then walking back inside his house. With too much time on his hands, he thought, let’s move God inside too. God needs a house. His days were full of memories, the battles were done, a nation at peace. Prosperity was clearly evident as he wandered the hallways of his beautiful house made out of cedar. He might have actually preferred being in the pasture with his stinky, obstinate sheep. He might have missed the thrill of protecting them by fighting off lions and tigers and bears on moment’s notice. Or the danger of battle, starting out when he was just a boy using a simple sling shot on Goliath. But with too much time on his hands he pondered: How about a special home for God? I live in house made of cedar. God lives in a box covered by a tent. In our text, it’s called the Chest of God, more commonly it’s known as the Ark of the Covenant. He was excited to tell Nathan his plans. On the other hand, however, maybe, as he rambled the hallways, every time he picked up a vase or a candlestick, he was haunted by the memories of each home plundered to take those precious items. Troubled by the scenes of so many battlefields strewn with dead bodies – under his order. Perhaps he recalled the trauma of killing Goliath. We never think about what that must have been like for a young boy. Lions and tigers and bears are one thing, but that was his first human life. Maybe he was filled with regrets, like he is about to be over Bathsheba’s husband Uriah whom he sends, like a mob boss, to be killed on the front lines to cover-up David’s indiscretions. Once again, too much time on his hands. His life may have appeared to be filled with peace and prosperity, but under it all, maybe he desperately longed to atone for his misdeeds. Forgiveness for his transgressions. So, therefore, as he rambled the hallways, he thought: I can make it up to God by building a grand house for the Almighty. On the other hand, or I guess, now, on the other foot, maybe this was all an act of arrogance to further solidify his power. The kings of many nations surrounding Israel had built glorious temples for their gods, not out of devotion but in order to enhance their positions of power. Maybe David masterminded the idea of a grand house just like what all self-serving autocrats did, and do. Mine is bigger than yours, believe me. Whatever the motivation, whether it was because he loved God (which he did), or because he was bored (which he probably was), or because he was tortured by his character flaws (which he definitely had)… Whether it was a power grab, an act of contrition, an act of devotion… or all three, it didn’t matter to Nathan because, as he observed, God loved David in way like no other. So, without even stopping to think about it, Nathan said to David, “If you want to, God will approve.” What was his motivation? Boredom? Ego, regret, love… In the age of Trump, it’s probably a good idea to ask those questions of ourselves too. Who are we? And what are our motivations? One of the positive results of the election is the number of white people who have begun to see white supremacy. Willing to understand white privilege. But it’s another paradox of our times that such motivation includes some mix of ego, regret, and love. Among writers who are grateful for this “new” awareness are some increasingly frustrated by those who are well-meaning but exhausting – people falling over themselves to prove how not racist they are; almost like a competition about who can be the most “woke.”[4] Are they motivated by dismantling such privilege, confronting and tearing down the foundations of white supremacy, whether it be through the means of mass incarceration or Muslim bans or kids in cages? Or is it about not looking bad? What are we trying to achieve? Destruction or accommodation? And what was King David trying to achieve? Building a house for God sounds like a nice idea. Even the Prophet Nathan thought so. Until God spoke. “What do I need this for? Have I ever asked for this?” Did David understand the implications of what he was proposing? We might think it is primitive to imagine God as living in a box. Quaint and silly. But what that meant, theologically, is that God went everywhere the people went. This represented a God who dwelt in the midst of them. Moving God’s residence to a grand permanent house meant the people now had to go to God. God would become unmovable. And soon, inaccessible but to a few. Do you see why this matters? Who benefits from confining God to one place? The person who controls that place. The people seeking to build and impose restrictions on a once free people. Those invested in the power and wealth of an empire, a monarchy. All of these motivations were disguised by the promise of a pretty pink palace. Disguised just like how much of what passes for patriotism in America has nothing to do with respecting the flag or saluting the troops but for power and control. Just like, who dare question a beautiful palace for God? All without asking, is that really who God is? Not what God wants, but who God is. And all without asking, is that really who America is? We’re just flags and anthems? I agree with Langston: Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed-- Whether it’s ever really been true before or not, out of the rack and ruin… the rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies – We the People say No: Let it be that great strong land of love Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme That any man be crushed by one above. O, let my land be a land where Liberty Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath, But opportunity is real, and life is free, Equality is in the air we breathe. You know what: That’s all the Prophet Nathan is saying too. Let God be God again. Free, not confined. So, as the text continues, after saying, “I never asked for a house built of cedar,” God told Nathan to tell David, “this is what I’m going to do instead – for you. I will build you a house. Not a house for you. But you as a house for generations to come and guarantee your kingdom’s permanent rule. And I will never take away my love. I will discipline and correct the pitfalls and obstacles of this mortal life, but I’ll never remove my gracious love.”[5] That same promise lives on today in people of God. In the pitfalls and obstacles of this mortal life, (boy o boy!) and those days when we feel bereft of optimism, and when things are not better but really much worse than we hoped, yet, the promise of God remains to make us God’s house, “a land where Liberty is crowned with no false patriotic wreath, but opportunity is real, and life is free, [like God, and] Equality is the air we breathe.” Just let me say, worrying too much about all this is a sign that we have too much time on our hands. Better, instead, to listen to prophets like Nathan, when to stand up and show up and speak up. Instead of alphabetizing our spice rack one more time, can you spare some of your precious time, our privilege of time, so that America can be America again? Can is the wrong word. Will you? [1] https://www.recovery.org/topics/step-4-aa/ [2] https://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/post-partisan/wp/2018/07/03/trump-is-not-the-first-president-to-roll-back-gains-says-the-rev-william-barber/?utm_term=.85854d17443b [3] https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/let-america-be-america-again [4] https://www.scarymommy.com/black-woman-message-woke-white-friends/ [5] Paraphrased 2nd Samuel 7:11-16
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