Tag Archives: King David

Chapter-a-Day

Of Robin Hood and Corrective Lenses

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Douglas Fairbanks as Robin Hood; a screenshot ...
(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

David left Gath and escaped to the cave of Adullam. When his brothers and his father’s household heard about it, they went down to him there. All those who were in distress or in debt or discontented gathered around him, and he became their commander. About four hundred men were with him…. But the prophet Gad said to David, “Do not stay in the stronghold. Go into the land of Judah.” So David left and went to the forest of Hereth.
1 Samuel 22:1-2;5 (NIV)

Most people know the childhood story of David and Goliath. Many people know the more adult story of David and Bathsheba. Many people know of King David the great. Few people really know that between the time Samuel anointed David as king and the time that David actually became king, there were over two decades in which David was an outlaw, a wanted man, and a man on the run.

This morning’s chapter is a description of the early days of David’s years as a successful outlaw. There are two observations I made this morning as I read:

  • David is a cunning warrior and a charismatic leader. Wanted by the king, he gathers around himself a rag-tag group of followers who were themselves outcasts. On the advice of the local friar, they take up residence in the forest. Think about that for a second. Does it sound like anyone familiar? Yep, David is the original Robin Hood.
  • The group of people who become David’s closest followers are described as in distress, in debt, and discontented. These are not the polished, educated and well-to-do members of society. These people who gather around David are the dregs of society, and in this David becomes a type of Jesus, who started his own career on the outskirts of Israel with a rag-tag group of disciples who were themselves outcasts and societal leftovers.

As a culture it is easy to become enamored with the best and the brightest, and yet God continually reminds us that His ways are not our ways. As we journey through God’s Message we find that, time and time again, God eschews the best and brightest and surrounds Himself with the dregs. This morning I am once again faced with the hard reality that I spend most of my life looking at things through the lens of contemporary culture and fail to perceive things with a Kingdom perspective.

God, forgive me my spiritual astigmatism. Heal my eyes, or at least give me corrective lenses, that I might see life, circumstance, and others with 20/20 vision of your Kingdom’s perspective.

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Damage Control

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I will be careful to live a blameless life—
    when will you come to help me?
I will lead a life of integrity
    in my own home.
Psalm 101:2 (NLT)

Politics has always been a dirty business. Things have not changed in the nearly 3000 years since King David penned the lyric to this song. As I began to read the lyrics I was initially impressed. David is making several declaratory statements about who he is and what he stands for. Click on the link to the psalm above and count the number of times “I will” appears. At first I was intrigued and impressed at the statements, and then I get to the last line:

My daily task will be to ferret out the wicked
    and free the city of the Lord from their grip.

It was then that it struck me. Psalm 101 is a campaign commercial.

It’s morning in Jerusalem.
Hope. Change. Forward.

This psalm is a set of idyllic promises that only the Son of God could meet. Scholars muse that the song may have been written as David took over the tenuous united kingdom of Israel which, in middle-eastern style reminiscent of today’s headlines, had two major factions and several smaller tribal factions threatening his power. They think it might be David’s inaugural address, if you will. Everything is looking up. Everyone is excited. It’s a political honeymoon for the golden boy, the shepherd turned warrior, the national hero turned monarch. David steps into the spotlight and declares that his reign will be the ideal. He will be different than his maniacal predecessor. It fits. I get it.

Perhaps I’m cynical when it comes to politics, but as I read it over in light of the last verse I wondered if the psalm might have served a completely different purpose. Fast forward about twenty years after David’s idyllic inaugural. His life is falling apart. His own home is fractured. He is beset by multiple scandals in his personal life and administration. In almost Shakespearean fashion, David’s own son is leading a bloody coup against him. We are a far cry from the hope and glory of his early days.

It leads me to wonder. Could this psalm have been a way of publicizing his repentance and spinning his way out of the public scandals that threatened his reign. It’s damage control. You can almost hear the political consultants whispering in David’s ear:

“David. Your majesty. I know it looks bad but you’ve got to go back to what made you popular in the first place. Write a song. Get back onto the Billboard charts. People loved your rock star image. You’re not too old. Think Elvis in Vegas. The big comeback. You gotta make the people fall in love with you again.”

Today, I am thinking about my own cynicism. Whether you want to think of this song as an inaugural address or as damage control, it reminds me of the inescapable truth that we are a fallen people. All of us fall short. We want the ideal. We want to believe that the ideal is attainable in our leaders and in ourselves. We fall for the idyllic campaign promises only to be grossly disappointed. Then we start the cycle all over again.

But the truth is that my own life reads like David’s on a smaller, less public scale. I’m no different. I’ve made countless declarations to which I’ve fallen short. We all fail, disappoint, and fall short.

We don’t need a politician. We need a savior.

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The Legacy of Family

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Salmon - Boaz - Obed
Salmon – Boaz – Obed (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The women living there said, “Naomi has a son!” And they named him Obed. He was the father of Jesse, the father of David. Ruth 4:17 (NLT)

My grandparents came of age as the Great Depression hit America. Times were hard and both my maternal and paternal grandparents got married quickly in small ceremonies with nothing but the official who married them and a pair of witnesses. My Grandpa Vander Well told me that he and my grandmother got married the weekend he finished up his teaching certificate at Iowa State University. My grandmother had traveled to Ames to see him graduate.

When they returned home to northwest Iowa, they did not tell anyone they were married. My grandmother lived with her elderly father. He getting up there in years and her was an alcoholic. Family tradition says that he could be quite a handful. My grandmother lived with him to take care of him, and I can only surmise that there was some fear in telling him about the marriage and what it might mean to leave him and who then would become responsible.

After a couple of months being secretly married, Great-grandpa Bloem asked my grandmother, “When are you going to marry that Herman Vander Well?” My grandmother told her father, “I already did,” and proceeded to tell him about their marriage in Ames months before. His reply: “Well then, get the hell out of my house!”

I love old family stories. They give us a glimpse into the people and the systemic family dynamics that were the foundation for what we experienced as children. They provide context for our own lives.

In today’s chapter we learn that the story of Ruth and Boaz is the story of King David’s great-grandparents. This story is David’s family story that I’m sure he heard told as a child. Once David became king and the great monarch of a unified Israel, I’m sure that interest in his family and in the fascinating story of Ruth grew. It was eventually written down. We’ve seen in recent weeks how interest in the affairs of Royals capture the attention of the masses as Queen Elizabeth II’s great-grandson was born.

Today, I’m thinking about Ruth and Boaz and their story. I’m thinking about my own life story. How might it resonate with and impact the generations that, God willing, might follow after me? I’m thinking about the fact that just as my Grandparents coming of age in the Depression helped shape my own life experience, how might my life and times shape the experience of my own grandchildren and great-grandchildren?

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An Iowa Psalm

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Iowa annual fainfall, in inches, created in ES...
(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Chapter-a-Day Psalm 65

You take care of the earth and water it,
    making it rich and fertile.
The river of God has plenty of water;
    it provides a bountiful harvest of grain,
    for you have ordered it so.
Psalm 65:9 (NLT)

For the record, I’ve never been a farmer. Though I’ve lived all but four years of my life in the state of Iowa I’ve got the most rudimentary understanding of how farms operate. I was raised in the city and have rarely stepped foot on a farm. Nevertheless, I’ve come to understand that being from Iowa gives you an appreciation for the land and the symbiotic relationship we have with it. You can’t escape it. The land and the people woven together. There’s cadence to life here that begins with planting, leads to harvest, followed by subsequent thanksgiving and celebration of the holidays before it ends in deep winter and the hope of next year and doing it all over again.

I tend to think that this relationship and dependence on the land and the weather is what gives us a rather humble and simple faith. Those whose livelihoods are rooted in agriculture realize our dependence on so much that it completely out of our control. You live life constantly making adjustments to what the earth and sky throw at you and have faith that it’s all going to work out in the end. When harvest does come and the crop comes in, there’s a realization that a large part of your success had absolutely nothing to do with you.

The chapter this morning tapped in to all of those thoughts and emotions. This is an Iowa psalm; A farmer’s psalm. David’s lyrics are full of that humble understanding that God’s creation is immense. No matter how much we strive to tame it, it only takes one massive storm, flood, or drought to remind us how dependent we really are.

Today, capping off a holiday weekend of Thanksgiving, I’m saying Psalm 65 as an extra prayer of gratitude.

Chapter-a-Day

Chapter-a-Day Psalm 41

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The Betrayal of Christ
The Betrayal of Christ (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Even my best friend, the one I trusted completely,
    the one who shared my food, has turned against me.
Psalm 41:9 (NLT)

One might read this verse from Psalm 41 and take it as prophetic. Despite the fact that the lyrics were penned about a thousand years before Christ, the words could have easily come from Jesus’ lips after Judas’ betrayal. Others read this verse and note that King David is a theological “type,” or an Old Testament example pointing to of Christ. I’m not going to dispute either of these positions, but as I read this morning my mind is less given to the prophetic or theological and more in tune with the daily grind of human experience.

Everyone of us have experienced betrayal. I read this verse and specific faces pop into my mind. Scabbed over and forgotten scars on my heart suddenly itch in reminder of their presence. I find the distant memory of hurt, confusion, and anger is suddenly a very present and palpable emotion. It doesn’t take long to stir up long forgotten and powerful negative feelings.

Today, I’m reminded that forgiveness is not a one time decision that erases all traces of an injury, but a recurring decision each time our itching emotional and relational scars threaten to propel us into anger, hatred, and resentment. I’m reminded that betrayal is common to human experience. Therefore, along with King David, and Jesus, it is also a part of each of our individual journeys. I’m also reminded that along my journey I have been the betrayer as well as the betrayed. To hold on to resentment towards my betrayer(s) while desiring or expecting the grace and forgiveness of those I have betrayed along the way is the very definition of hypocritical.

Forgive me my sins, as I forgive those who sin against me.

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Chapter-a-Day Psalm 13

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English: Right knee.
English: Right knee. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

O Lord, how long will you forget me? Forever?
    How long will you look the other way?
How long must I struggle with anguish in my soul,
    with sorrow in my heart every day?
    How long will my enemy have the upper hand?
Psalm 13:1-2 (NLT) 

I reached a significant waypoint in the journey last week while vacationing at the lake. On Thursday morning my friends Justin and Chad joined me for an early morning water skiing adventure. It was a gorgeous morning and the lake was nearly like glass. It was the morning after July 4th so virtually no one was out on the water after the previous night’s festivities. I have been water skiing since I was a kid. While I have only been on water skis once in the past several years, it’s a lot like riding a bike so I figured it would be no problem. I did ski and everything was wonderful, right up to the point that I wiped out. Apparently, my body can’t handle wiping out the way I remembered it doing as a teenager and in my twenties. If I’m going to wipeout, I guess it is no longer advisable to water ski.
Waypoint reached.

According to my doctor, my skiing adventure did a number on the medial collateral ligament of my right knee along with some accompanying damage to the meniscus. It also caused separation of the 7th rib on my right rib cage. At best I can look forward to six weeks of moderate pain and discomfort in both places as my body heals. Knee brace, ice, anti-inflammatories, and take it easy.

David, who was the King of Israel about 1000 B.C., wrote the lyrics of Psalm 13 when he was struggling with an on-going illness. I think almost every human being has, at one time or another, struggled with what feels like an endless ailment of some kind. Some of us know the life-and-death struggle of on-going disease. Others of us are annoyed constantly by a disability or medical issue. Even a relatively minor and microscopic tropical parasite can do an acute number on our insides and leave us wondering if death itself might be a welcome relief.

Times of pain and discomfort are all part of the journey. Crying out in anguish is part of the human experience. And from the depths, if we choose, we mine all sorts of wisdom that will benefit us the rest of the way. It is what it is.

Honey, can you hand me that ice pack?
Six weeks?
Really?

[sigh]

Chapter-a-Day

Chapter-a-Day 1 Chronicles 16

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Religion or relationship. That was the day that David inaugurated regular worship of praise to God, led by Asaph and his company. 1 Chronicles 16:7 (MSG)

There was a distinct point in time when, for me, “going to church” became “worship.” I was raised going to church. We were there every Sunday. I was a regular attender at Sunday School, Vacation Bible School, Choir, and Sunday mornnig service. It was what my family did. We were religious about going to church, but wasn’t really worship for me.

It was while I was in high school that I entered into a relationship with Jesus. Suddenly, the stale mechanics of going to church took on a whole new dimension. I wasn’t checking something off my to-do list of good intentions. I wasn’t just doing what my parents demanded. I was going to meet with God. I was going to have a heart-to-heart with Jesus, to learn from his message, and to worship the one who gave up his life for me.

One of the things that David understood was the importance of worship. Reading Chronicles, I get the sense that David viewed worship as a way of honoring God who had protected him, anointed him, and saved him. It wasn’t about some religious good-luck charm. David understood that regular worship was part of his relationship with God.

Going to church is a religious good deed. Worshiping God is a relational act of the heart.

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