“Called to Build People”

“Called to Build People” – 2 Samuel 7:1-17
July 19, 2009 – 16th Sunday of Ordinary Time
First United Church – Sermon by Micaela Wood

The king was sitting in his house – exhausted. His body was physically spent from all the battles he had fought. His soul was spent from dancing with abandon as the Ark of the Covenant was brought to its new home in Jerusalem. And he was emotionally spent from the argument with Michal the night before.

And now he settled into his house. Exhausted, proud, and planning.

Always planning.

Even in his worn-out state, King David was never one to sit still for long. As he gazed around his home, he was filled with pride. He – who had once been a lowly shepherd boy tending stinky sheep in a field – now lived in a house made of cedar. He was the king of a nation that was on the rise. They had even reclaimed the Ark of the Covenant – God’s house! – and brought it to the new capital city of Jerusalem.

David’s pride turned to gratitude as he thought of the Ark. He immediately blushed and felt embarrassed that he had allowed himself to get so puffed up, thinking about his fancy house. Of course, none of this would have happened without YHWH. He would not be where he was – in this fine house made of cedar. He would not be king. Jerusalem would not be secure. The people of Israel would not be filled with pride and joy.

And then it hit him – here he was living in this fancy house, but the presence of the Holy One was stuck in a dinky little tent. How could he have missed this?!?

The balance was all wrong. YHWH needed a new home. A place much nicer than the king’s palace. And now that David was firmly established in the land as a competent ruler, he would be the one to make a permanent house for the Lord.

He called for one of his advisors, the prophet Nathan. Excited – King David shared his idea. Nathan was on board. He saw no reason why YHWH wouldn’t want a fancy house, too. He gave King David the green light and the king fell asleep dreaming up floor plans for the new temple that he would build.

Nathan went home and drifted off to sleep, but he couldn’t get much rest.

He kept tossing and turning all night long. He had difficult dreams and awoke in the morning feeling uneasy. As began his morning prayers, he pondered the words he had heard in the night from YHWH. He knew he had to go back to King David and deliver a message that would make the king unhappy.

When Nathan arrived at David’s house, he explained to David that he had spoken too soon. YHWH insisted that there was no need for a house at this time. Instead, God flipped the proposal, saying that God would build a house for King David out of people.

God would create a dynasty for the king that would last for all time and everyone in David’s lineage would be blessed. And in this dynasty would be a son – and it would be his task, not David’s, to build a house for God.

The prophet Nathan spoke all of these words to King David.

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I can identify with King David’s excitement over creating something new and wonderful for God. Anyone who has ever been a part of a building campaign, or a new church start, or the revitalization of a church, or a successful service trip knows the joy that comes with the sense that you are a part of a new thing being done in the name of the Holy One.

When David and I lived in Dallas, we were a part of a unique congregation filled with people that we loved dearly and we were proud to be a part of it. While we were members, the church decided to build a new building. We watched with great excitement as blueprints appeared in the narthex. We chatted at coffee hour about how wonderful it was that the new building would be “green”. We couldn’t wait to worship, learn, and serve in this new place.

But it wasn’t meant to be. We left for Indiana before the building was completed.

It seems that we were called to be a part of the growing excitement, a part of the planning, a part of the hoping – but not a part of the realization of our work. It was difficult to leave knowing that we wouldn’t be there to see the opening worship in that new space.

I know, I know, it’s just a building. I’m not particularly proud of the fact that I was so proud to see it built. But I was.

And so I can identify with King David when he dreams his dreams of a new house for God.

I can identify with his longing to make something new and pretty – something that will show the rest of the world just how much he loves God. And just how much the people of Israel are able to accomplish together.

And I can identify with how his heart must have broken when he heard that news that it wasn’t meant to be.

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I can also feel his quiet astonishment when he recognized the amazing promise that was being presented to him as a counter-offer.

Instead of building a house for God, God was offering to build a royal house – a dynasty – for him. God’s abiding presence would be with David and his offspring for all eternity.

And since we are heirs of King David through our commitment to Jesus, that means us. God’s promise that we will never be abandoned is still with us today.

So as we left Dallas and the faith community we had come to love, there was sadness and emptiness. But we were assured of God’s promise that God would be with us no matter where we went.

And before long, we found a new family of faith. We dreamed new dreams of the work we could do together. We never forgot our church in Dallas, but we didn’t wallow in misery, either. We were not alone – the presence of God was in this new place, too.

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(TIME TO GET THE KIDS FROM THEIR CLASSROOMS!)

As I pondered these two stories this week, I began to wonder: how do we deal with the reality that we are sometimes not the ones called to build a house for God?

Sometimes we devote our lives to a task and it turns out we are not the ones who will finally see the dream become reality.

Sometimes we work and toil and fight and dream and plan and pray only to discover that our true task all along has been to prepare a new generation to complete our work.

Those huge tasks – you know, like building a house for God – are often ones that take more than one generation to complete.

It makes me think of Moses looking into the promised land and realizing it was not his calling to take the Israelites that far.

And I think about Martin Luther King, Jr. using that same imagery the night before his death when he said, “I’ve been to the mountaintop….And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight that we, as a people, will get to the promised land.”

And I think about women holding up signs in 1923 when the Equal Rights Amendment was first introduced. And I see them waving those signs with excitement in 1972 when the amendment finally passed Congress. And I see them laying down their signs with tears of frustration in their eyes in 1982 when the deadline for ratification passed. And I see them today, still working on a dream that is both their own and one for the next generation.

How many huge tasks are there today that people in this very congregation are working on?

We have people who have dedicated their lives to caring for the planet we live on. We have people who work towards equal rights for GLBT citizens. We have people who have dedicated hours to delivering meals to those who are hungry, reading to children who have no one to read to them, dreaming up ways to end poverty in Monroe County, speaking out on behalf of women and children who have been abused, and working tirelessly to ensure that those without health insurance in our community can still get the care they deserve.

There are many dreams within these pews. Many houses for God that are struggling to be built.

And so I ask the question again – what do we do when we come up against the realization that perhaps it is not our call to build the temple, but, instead, to prepare a new generation to build that temple?

How do we find a balance?

How do we continue to work and also commit ourselves to bringing along a new generation?

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This past week, many of us spent every weeknight working to bring along a new generation of Christ-followers. We had about 25 children join us for Vacation Bible School each night and about that many more adults encouraging these kids to seek holy space for God in our world.

Halfway through the week, I started wondering – how can we make space for these children’s voices to be heard during the sermon on Sunday? I posted my pondering on facebook and was surprised to hear from one of my high school teachers who had this wisdom to share, “Perhaps the children ARE the temple and all you need to do is listen to them and discuss how they experience God in their lives.”

Such a simple idea, but such a great place to start. So, as you can see, we’ve brought the kids back in from their classes and we want to take a couple of minutes to hear from them. Any kids out there in the congregation, you’re invited to come up here, too.

Ask the kids:
1) How do you explore God in your life?
2) How can the church help you as you explore?

Listening is a holy act – difficult to do and requiring much practice. One of the ways we can practice listening is by making sure we heard what was said. So in the time we have remaining, I want to ask those of you who just listened to our kids to get into small groups of 3 or 4 with those sitting near you and tell each other what you just heard the kids say.

(adults talk in groups)

Finally, as we close out our conversation, you may be thinking: what’s this all have to do with me? As we go forth from this place today, I invite and challenge you to think about the ways you are working in your own life to ensure that coming generations will feel their call to build the temple.

Go with the knowledge that God is with you as you work to create space for the Holy – just as God is with all the generations before us and all the generations yet to be imagined.