Ark
2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19
Click here to view the full sermon video, titled "Ark"
In the summer of 2001, then Alabama Chief Justice Roy Moore unilaterally had a two-and-a-half ton granite monument of the Ten Commandments placed in the rotunda of the Alabama state judicial building in the middle of the night. Moore and his defenders contended that the presence of the commandments in the court building served as a reminder of the higher law upon which our justice system is based. Opponents saw the monument and its central placement in the building as an attempt to establish, or feature, one particular religious tradition over others in a state building. To them it was a clear violation of the first amendment to the U.S. Constitution that prohibits the government from establishing any single faith as our official religion. It took two years of lawsuits and an ethics complaint before the monument was relocated from the rotunda to a side room in the building. Moore was ultimately removed from his office as Chief Justice for refusing to comply with the federal court order to remove the monument.
Since then, other people, most recently in the state of Louisiana, have followed suit in their desire to place the ten commandments front and center in public life- this time in public schools- as a visible reminder of the role they believe God should play in our lives. Our reading this morning offers something of a cautionary tale, in the form of King David, about the advisability of using the commandments to make a political statement.
As we have witnessed in these past few weeks it took quite a while for the afterthought son of Jesse, the shepherd boy anointed by Samuel, it took years for the people anointing him their king to catch up with the anointing of God. Afterall, they already had a king in Saul. As complicated as David’s relationship with Saul was, it didn’t get any less complicated when Saul died. Initially, David was only king over Judah. Remember, the liberated slaves who crossed a wilderness and entered the promised land were nothing more than a loose confederacy of family clans bound together by the covenant they made when the Holy One, their God, lead them out of the land of Egypt. Each clan, or tribe, settled in their own part of the land. And each developed their own way of doing things. Some said, “y’all,” while others said, “y’inz, and still others simply said, “you guys,’ even if there were women present. Okay, not really. But it was sort of like that. There were different regional traits and habits and loyalties. But eventually they started to recognize that if they didn’t come together, if they didn’t stand as a nation, they would forever be harassed- if not outright eliminated- by neighboring groups like the Philistines. So, they told the prophet Samuel that they wanted a king to lead them in battle. They got one and went to war. But their loyalties were still divided. When Saul and Jonathan died, as popular as David had become, the son of one of Saul’s commanders assumed the throne over the tribes in the northern region known as Israel. Things got ugly. There was a long civil war between North and South, the house of Saul and the house of David. In the end the tribes came over to David’s side and he was anointed in the north as well. The boy who was once an afterthought became king over all of Israel and Judah. He really was a big deal. One of his first orders of business, in addition to a decisive victory over the always threatening Philistines, was to establish a capitol for this newly united kingdom. Like Alexander Hamilton’s bargain to locate our nation’s capitol along the Potomac River, David’s move was also politically savvy. Up until then, Jerusalem had been under the control of the neighboring nation. As far as the tribes of Israel and Judah were concerned, it was a neutral location that neither group would see belonging to the other. David knew what he was going to need to if he was going to keep this fractious group together. He was going to have to lead from someplace altogether new. He also knew enough to know that nothing he did, no matter how well planned or executed, would matter if God was not at the center of it. So, David rounded up a crowd and set about bringing the Ark of the Covenant into his newly minted “City of David.” It bore all the marks of an inaugural parade. Now, ever since Moses brought the tablets of the law down from his têt-a-têt with God on Mount Sinai, they had resided within the ark. That ark accompanied the people through 40 hard years in the wilderness on their way to the promised land. The tabernacle tent where the ark would sit was continually shrouded in a cloud, or accompanied by a pillar of fire as they made that long trek. It was more than a box used to store the commandments of God; for the people, it was the very presence of God dwelling with them. Atop the ark were two figures of heavenly cherubim extending their wings toward one another to form a kind of seat. It was the visible throne of the invisible God who was to be their true and eternal king. What better way to inaugurate one’s reign than to bring this visible symbol of God’s presence into the newly formed capitol city. It was the ultimate endorsement. From all accounts the parade was quite a show-it was the stuff of marching bands and dance teams to hype the celebration, with David leading the way, dancing up a storm. Everyone was so excited to bring God into their city. Which was probably their first mistake. You hear this kind of thing all the time. People will say something like, “we need to bring God back, or into this, or that.” Or they’ll complain about how God is being kept out of some space. Do we really imagine that the God of all creation, the maker of heaven and earth can be so easily summoned by us, or prevented by us from entering into whatever place our situation that God chooses? For David and his parade this serious misunderstanding about just who God is, and more importantly who God isn’t, has disastrous consequences. Because when the cart carrying the Ark of God hits a bump in the road, Uzzah, well-meaning Uzzah, sticks out his hand to steady it and just like that the whole celebration is brought to a sudden halt. Uzzah lays dead on the road where God has struck him dead. Suddenly God goes from a welcome presence in their new capitol city to that annoying party guest who single-handedly ruins everything. David is livid. That was supposed to be his big moment, the dawn of a new era. Is it too much to ask a little cooperation from God? Honestly, where’s the harm in trying to steady the Ark? Wouldn’t it have been worse if the whole thing pitched out of the wagon and onto the road? This is more than stone tablets, or even stone dust. In the classic movie Raiders of the Lost Ark, Indiana Jones’ archeological rival calls the ark a radio to heaven. But it is more than even that. More than a conduit to God, it is the very mystery of God present with them; a living, moving, active presence. This is not some stale stage prop for the new King’s political parade. In a desire to secure the support of the people with an over-the-top show of super piety, David commits the sin that is at the heart of every other sin- he forgets God. Or rather, he forgets who he is in relation to God. He forgets, but in an instant he is reminded. While David may be king, God is still God and will not be contained or confined by some dusty box. God’s presence rests where it does because that is where God wants to be, not because we say that’s where God is. The blessing that we seek from being in the presence of God is not ours to call down, manage or manipulate for our own purposes. We don’t make it happen by worshipping in a certain way, or saying the right kind of prayer, or even by leading the kind of life we think we’re supposed to live. The very first commandment held by that ark makes it clear that we are to have no other gods, and that includes making the mistake of thinking that we are God. We are not the ones who are in charge here. God is. We are certainly called to live in such a way that honors and serves God. With our hearts and minds, with our time and our work, in our communities, our marriages and our families, we are called to put God at the center of it all. Not so we can claim our moral superiority over other people, but because that is how we honor and serve God, by continually seeking after the things that God does care about: justice, mercy, humility and love.
It’s no wonder that God’s outburst against Uzzah frightened David. Up to that point David had only known God’s favor. He was the boy picked last to be God’s first, the one who stood up to the bully, Goliath, and survived Saul’s campaign to have him killed. Through it all, God had blessed him and protected him. Now he was faced with the unsettling notion that God might be displeased with his actions. That’s not a very happy thought. So, David does what too many people do when confronted with that possibility, he ditches God. He leaves the ark in a farmhouse. It’s too unpredictable, too dangerous. Sometimes we think it’s easier to walk away from faith in God than it is to face up to what can be a painful reality to accept- that God is God, and we are not; that God is the only one qualified to be the center of the universe. But leaving God behind isn’t as easy as it sounds. Just because we may want to be done with God, does not mean that God is done with us, leaving us to our own devices. Pretty soon the blessing of God draws us back as it did David. We return to the one who is the source, and center of everything and we worship. We worship not in celebration of ourselves, but in celebration of what God has done and continues to do. We worship knowing that the power of God is nothing to be trifled with, but it is a power that blesses us all the same.