A Tale of Two Kings
What can we learn by laying the story of King David and Bethsheba (and Uriah) alongside the story of Jesus feeding the multitudes?
For one, we learn more about the tendencies we have in ourselves to grasp and control—and the invitation to release and trust the Spirit.
The Glimpses of Grace podcast is a ministry of Grace Episcopal Church in Gainesville, Georgia. We are passionate about supporting the spiritual growth of souls, and we hope these sermons and conversations meet you where you are and enrich your soul as we all continue to make meaning in the world today.
Transcript
The story of the first king is hard to hear
.It is an old tale that still speaks truth,
That can still teach us
Something about ourselves–
If we dare to listen.
The story isn’t pretty, but it was left in the Bible
on purpose.
The ones who gathered the stories centuries ago
And set them in place decided to keep this one,
So we can always look at it closely
To learn a vital lesson
About the temptations of being human.
What does it tell us that those who had a choice
Chose to leave in a painful story?
This is the story of a man who,
Once he tasted power,
Wanted to scrape the bowl clean.
The demure shepherd boy we once knew
Is gone by this point in the story,
Or he has at least been pushed deep down
Under the older king who has tasted power
And wants more.
The man stepped out onto the rooftop that evening
And it didn’t take long for his eyes to rest on her,
The object of his affection
The object of possession.
Sometimes people climb higher
To gain a wider perspective on life,
To appreciate the expansive view.
Sometimes they climb higher to see the stars
Or feel the evening breeze.
But sometimes people climb higher
To see what else they can grasp,
To see what else they can lay claim to.
The king saw the lady and he felt
He could take something that didn’t belong to him–
Someone who didn’t belong to him,
That he was entitled to someone else’s life
That he could take hold of someone else’s wife.
The story gets harder, you see, because
The lady’s husband was a soldier
Who had taken a vow to protect the king and country.
He had dedicated his life to serve,
And the one he honored, the king,
Now only saw him as a barrier to his own ambition,
Now only saw him as something to be dealt with
So that he could have what he felt was his due as king.
The king grasped the lady and did
What he felt he was entitled to do,
But then he knew he needed to cover up his deeds,
Only the soldier wouldn’t leave the others
Who were called to protect the country.
The soldier’s honor prevented the king’s ploy
From taking root.
See, the soldier declined any special treatment
And insisted he remain with the others in the army
Who were defending the common good.
The king grew angry because
He knew he needed a story to distract and deflect
The effect of his abuse,
A way to avoid any consequence of his selfishness,
And when the soldier didn’t cooperate with the king’s plan,
Well, fury reigned at that point.
The king’s hunger for control filled him
With a darkness and he sent the soldier into harm’s way
To be done with him,
To remove him from the board entirely.
The demure shepherd boy was gone by this point,
Remember, and the older king was on the throne.
He had a taste of power and now
He wanted to scrape the bowl clean.
It was a betrayal of trust,
An abuse of power by the one
Who once tended sheep in his father’s fields,
The ruddy boy who Samuel spied that day long ago
Once all his brothers had walked past the prophet
And Samuel kept his eyes open for
The one chosen by God to be king.
But that was long ago, and this part of the story
Is a tragedy.
It is an old tale that still speaks truth,
That can still teach us
Something about ourselves–
If we dare to listen.
The story of the second king is another matter.
It is an old tale that still speaks truth,
That can still teach us
Something about ourselves–
If we dare to listen.
It is the story of a man who,
Once he tasted power,
Did everything he could
To pour himself out.
He didn’t so much walk away from power
As turn it on its head,
Invert it and guide that energy into a space
Where it was shared by all who needed to be filled,
By those who needed hope in a time of hunger.
When he lifted the bread that day,
On the green slopes covered by hungry souls,
No one knew it was a harbinger
Of much deeper meals to come,
When bread would be lifted and broken
At the last meal they would share together.
Perhaps he knew.
See, bread was never just bread to him,
It was a symbol of life itself, nourishing.
It was a symbol of his life, which is our life,
Broken and shared with all who need it:
Take and eat if you are hungry.
There is plenty to go around.
Perhaps the real miracle is that the young boy
Whose generous heart led him to Philip,
The young boy who shared all he had,
The five loaves and two fish,
Inspired others to open their baskets
And turn to their neighbor and echo:
Take and eat if you are hungry.
There is plenty to go around.
After they had their fill of bread and fish,
They were astonished at what was left over.
The feast had only grown,
Which is what happens when gratitude
And generosity reign.
As their eyes met, the murmur spread
Across the hillside, and they settled on a plan:
This man must be made king.
But, as the story goes, when he knew they
Were going to take him and make him king,
He slipped away by himself to pray
On the mountain.
What must it have taken to step away
From the praise and attention
At that moment?
What was it like to know you could grasp
But choose to release instead?
What was it like to take what was your own
And offer it to the world?
The disciples went to find him,
And when they got into the boat to travel
To the other shore, a storm blew in–
Storms are always blowing in, it seems.
The waves crashed and the disciples trembled,
And then they saw, out there, on the water,
The man walking calmly on the surface.
He didn’t avoid storms, and he didn’t cause them.
He soothed them, calmed them.
He could have said anything to them at that point.
He could have asked them to praise him,
To celebrate the spectacle,
But that’s not what he did.
Instead, he recognized their fear and
He gave them hope instead:
“Yes, it’s me,” he said. “Don’t be afraid.”
And they tasted hope again.
It is an old tale that still speaks truth,
That can still teach us
Something about ourselves–
If we dare to listen.
This is the story of us you see,
A new tale always fresh,
Always being written again, being born again,
In every moment, in every breath
Of the life we share.
We hold each of these stories,
The stories of these two kings,
In our own hands and both have power
To teach us something about ourselves–
If we dare to listen.
One king grasps and seeks to control
Something–someone–that is not his.
That king has ravenous eyes.
One king opens his hands wide to release
Everything–all that is his,
All that was brought into being by him and through him.
One king felt he was entitled, that, for some reason,
All of existence revolved around his life,
That he was always the center of attention,
That his name always needed to be in bright lights.
One king knew who he was and, more than that,
He knew the purpose of his life: to be emptied,
To point beyond himself, into the heart of each person,
Into the heart of all creation.
It is an old tale that still speaks truth,
That can still teach us
Something about ourselves,
About choices we make.
We hold each of these stories,
The stories of these two kings,
In our own hands and both have power
To teach us something about ourselves–
If we dare to listen.