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Let
me take you to Tyler, Texas. It's azalea time and the courthouse
plaza is ablaze with color. There are other stately trees
growing there, but a lone holly tree captures your attention.
Under it is a grave. The marker is Georgia Marble. No epitaph.
Just a name and the dates of birth and death. When he was
alive people called him Shorty. Being buried in this place
you would think he was a local war hero, a general, a governor
or something. But this grave was reserved for a panhandler
who died penniless. Out of compassion, no one called him what
he was to his face. He was a beggar. And nearly everyone saw
his face every day for fifteen years around the courthouse.
The
last years were the toughest on Shorty. He started losing
his sight. But because he was such a beloved personality
in Tyler, the town gave him free medical care. They slowed
the speed limit on Broadway, and designated a reserved pedestrian
crossing for him. Newspaper editorials considered how Shorty
might feel on certain issues. His closest friends were the
old-timers who hung around the plaza. He outlived many of
them. He died August 5, 1963. His death made headlines,
and there was a large crowd at the funeral. His official
resting place was the plaza since it was the only home he
ever knew. If you go there today, you will see the marker,
under the holly tree among the azaleas. There lies Shorty...the
most famous squirrel in Texas.
It
was a lot of fuss for such a little creature, but Shorty
stirred the sensitivities of a whole town. Today I will
tell you about a nearly overlooked person who changed the
course of a nation and whose story remains an inspiration
to all who endeavor to live for God. He is an inspiration
because in him we not only see pure-hearted devotion to
God, but full-blooded humanness, or, as someone put it,
"David was the world's greatest saint and sinner rolled
into one." We look to David, and we see ourselves, as we
are...but also as we can be.
I want
you to consider God's choice of David. By way of background,
you ought to know that Saul was Israel's first king. Israel's
neighbors had kings. Israel wanted one, too. The judge Samuel
was dead set against it, but after relentless badgering
he agreed, and Saul was crowned king. Saul was a military
hero. He looked kingly, but didn't act it. In no time God
had rejected him. Our story begins as God tells Samuel to
quit pouting over Saul. "Go over to Bethlehem to Jesse's
place and anoint one of his sons as the new king. I'll tell
you which one."
Jesse
had seven sons. Naturally, Jesse would introduce his first
born, Eliab, a big, strapping man. His size alone would
impress. One by one Jesse filed his sons by, and Samuel
looked them over. Now if you had to choose, what would be
your criterion? This one's a war hero. This one has an MBA
from Harvard. This one's is a specialist in strategic planning.
This one would be great on television. This one is a public
relations dream. It's hard to choose. They are all blue-
chippers. But the Lord told Samuel, "Don't look at the surface.
I don't see as you see. I look to the heart. I don't want
any of the seven."
This
is a big blow if you're the first born. If you are into
image, if you have jumped through all the hoops, earned
your degree, got seniority or earned tenure, this story
is not for you. If you take the whose-who and who-gets-what
model the world runs by, and apply it to how God picks people
for his purposes, you're going to be disappointed.
"Are
these all the sons you've got, Jesse?" "Well, no. My youngest
is out on the back forty with the sheep, but he's so..."
"Bring him here." "You want to see Shorty?" The brothers
asked. Little David was an afterthought in the parade of
sons. He wasn't being pruned for leadership in prep school.
But when Samuel saw the ruddy, red-haired lad with beautiful
eyes, the Lord said, "He's the one." And in front of his
big brothers, Samuel poured oil over David's head and the
Spirit rested mightily upon him, and the way was prepared
for David to succeed the soon to be ousted Saul.
If
you believe in the pecking order, the story is hard to hear.
But if you know how it feels to be the last one chosen in
a school yard ball game; if you've heard, "You're inexperienced,";
if you've been passed over for the promotion; if you're
a recent grad and are about to be a freshman again, you
will like this story.
When
it comes to picking people to be about his purposes, God
is not looking for credentials, rather a capacity to trust
and a willingness to follow. It was said of David he was
God's beloved because he was a man after God's own heart.
I just heard a contemporary Christian song with this line..."I
want to be closer to you and further from me." David's desire
was that God's heart be in his own. He was accessible, pliable,
willing to be used, not for what God would bring him; not
for a plan it would actualize. He became an unlikely agent
for a dramatic moment in the history of God's people for
no other reason than he loved God.
Saul
had no idea his successor had been anointed. For now, Samuel
and David would keep it under the rug. But it was becoming
clear that God didn't have an interest in maintaining the
present arrangements. We ought to carry this story with
us like a chain around our necks when we think that the
way it's been is the way God wants it to be. When you think
the system is all nailed down and everyone is in their assigned
seat, remember the disrupting thing Jesus said. "Unless
you become as a child, you will not enter the kingdom."
Remember Paul who told us, "God chose what is little and
low to shame the strong. He has chosen what the world considers
nothing, the shortys if you will, to bring to nothing the
things that are." Recall the words of Mary before the birth
of Jesus when she looked to what would happen in the world
through her son, "He has put down the mighty from their
thrones and exalted those of low degree."
The
greatest truth of this opening episode of David's life is
that it is true...very true for us. The truth is that something
new is waiting to be born...in you, in me, in the church.
In the play, The Fiddler On The Roof, Tevea says, "You know
why we do the things we do in our little village? The reasons
aren't always clear, but the final answer is always, "tradition."
Well, tradition is good, even necessary. But God won't preserve
what doesn't work. God won't preserve any order that isn't
just and life giving. God is not into maintenance, and neither
should we, not when there is a mission to mind.
"Go
and anoint the one to whom I send you," the Lord said. "I
need a fresh mind and heart to lead." Father Theodore Hesburgh
told of his predecessor who let a faculty member go because
his teaching wasn't up to Notre Dame standards. The professor
protested. "You can't fire me! I have twenty-one years of
teaching experience in this place!" Father Cavanaugh then
replied, "No, you have one year of experience, repeated
twenty times."
God
is with those who have a heart for him, and don't be concerned
that you don't have a ready made position. Realize that
God will speak through those unaccustomed to being agents
of change. God is calling forth Davids from among us to
use us for a new work and to empower us for his plan.
I had
a dream two weeks ago that I view as God's message to take
care of and nurture something emerging from within me. I
was sitting on the ground with some other people when a
little bird walked up to me. To my surprise, with no fear
it walked into my cupped hands, almost anxious to be held.
It was an ugly thing. A big beak, black feathers, many of
which were missing. It began squawking like it was cold
and hungry. I looked everywhere for something to put it
in, and finally found a cardboard box which I padded with
newspapers and cloths. No one else offered to help, and
a voice said, "You must do it." When I looked into the box
I was surprised because it wasn't the same bird. It was
bigger, the feathers had a sheen to them. "See what is happening,"
the voice said. "See what it will become if you care for
it."
I take
that dream as a symbol of something that God needs nurtured
and tended within me so I can be more a part of what God
wants me to do. Pay attention to that little, awkward, overlooked
part of you. Protect it, don't ignore it by getting immersed
in all the other stuff which seems so important. Pay attention
to the little David who is waiting to be called out of your
life.
Thomas
Long teaches preachers at Princeton Seminary. He relates
an incident that happened in Yankee Stadium. A foul ball
was hit into the lower left field stands. It was going right
for a little boy with cheap binoculars around his neck,
an oversized Yankees cap on his head, and a small Little
League glove with a barely broken in look. The ball was
on a trajectory right for his glove when suddenly a man
in his mid thirties with a knit shirt and horned rimmed
glasses reached over the boy, pushing him aside, and caught
the ball. The plastic binoculars were broken, and despite
his mom's consoling, the boy was crushed.
Then
after a few seconds of stunned silence, someone shouted,
"Give the kid the ball!" Then another voice, and another.
Several rows joined in unison. "Give the kid the ball! Give
the kid the ball!" Mr. Hornrims shook his head no and put
the ball in his pocket. That made everyone one in left field
get in on the act. "Give the kid the ball!" The chant spread
into the center field stands and then right field until
the whole outfield was shouting. Many didn't know why, but
they joined the refrain anyway. "Give the kid the ball!"
Now the players were trying to figure out what was happening.
But Hornrims held his ground.
Finally,
another fan went over and spoke patiently with him. Hornrims
hesitated, reached into his pocket, and handed the ball
to the boy. Then applause rippled through Yankee Stadium
as people shouted in unison, "He gave the kid the ball!"
But
there's more. Another foul ball was hit to the left field
stands, and the guy who caught it walked over and gave it
to Hornrims. He was astonished, thanked him, and took it.
The next foul ball was caught by a tough looking customer
wearing a muscle shirt. He in turn tossed the ball to the
little kid who caught it. More applause. They came that
night for a baseball game, and in the process they were
participants in a parable of how, by looking after a little
one, everyone can be caught up in God's grace.
The
Lord doesn't see as we see...God does not look upon outward
appearances, but to the heart. The Lord isn't obliged to
work within our established arrangements. His purpose matters
more than our procedures. What concerns God and what inspires
those who feel small and aren't sure what should be done,
is this...God has chosen you, little, young, and inadequate
though you may be and feel, and is waiting to enlist you
in the urgent work of changing this world by changing the
church.
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