Around this time of the year, graduates gather with their families and friends to celebrate their accomplishments, marked with caps, gowns, and diplomas. I've "graduated" five times in my life – preschool, high school, undergrad, and twice from seminary. As a graduate and pastor, I have attended more graduation ceremonies and baccalaureate services (are these still a thing?) than I can remember. At every graduation or baccalaureate service, the graduating class is told that as they move from one phase of life to the next, they will get to decide who they want to be. This is especially true for high school and college graduates.
Graduation offers a fresh slate to the graduating class. As graduates trade the hallowed halls of learning for new hallowed halls of learning, the workforce, or whatever else graduates do after they graduate, guest speakers will tell the graduating class that this is a time for them to be the person they want to be in the world.
If you want to be a philanthropist, you can do that.
Do you want to change the world? Change away!
Want to leave your family's patterns behind and chart new patterns for yourself? Chart away!
With the throwing of a mortarboard, their old self can depart, allowing their fresh slate to take shape.
But here's the thing: even with a fresh slate before them, even when you have a moment of new beginning, the temptation to be like someone else, or worse, like everyone else, lingers.
The last we heard from Samuel, he had been called by God. Hearing a voice call out to him in the middle of the night, Samuel responded, "Here I am, Lord." We sang a hymn about Samuel's response, and I made the point that Samuel's response, "Here I am, Lord," drives home the point that God is in the business of calling all types of people—the young, the old, and everyone in between.
Now, Samuel is struggling with the people’s desire for a king. The elders of Israel told Samuel, ““You are old and your sons do not follow in your ways; appoint for us, then, a king to govern us, like other nations.”[i]
Ouch!
The people were troubled by their aging prophet and the corruption of his sons, who accepted bribes and perverted justice. This corruption undermined the people's trust in the existing system. The lack of reliable leadership caused anxiety about the nation's future stability.
The people sought a more dependable and consistent form of governance. This concern over leadership continuity led them to consider a monarchy as a solution. If the bands of judges are not working, then there must be another way.
The people wanted a king—someone to rule over them, order their lives, "protect" them, and "organize" the life of a confederation of tribes that needed one another. They want a king so they can be like the nations surrounding them.
This request was alarming to both Samuel and God. Israel was chosen by the Lord and was a covenant community. In calling Israel, God intended for Israel not to be like the other nations. Rather, Israel was to order its life around the Torah and rely on God's love and promises.[ii]
Samuel told the people what would happen if they chose a king. Samuel told the people that their lives, tribes, and nation would look very different from what they were if a king were set over them. But the people persisted, "We are determined to have a king over us, so that we also may be like other nations, and that our king may govern us and go out before us and fight our battles.”[iii]
So, the people got their king. I guess Mick was wrong, and you can get what you want – King Saul.
The reign of King Saul can be described as over-selling and under-delivering. King Saul had some initial military successes, but ultimately, God would reject Saul because of his disobedience, and because of this disobedience, Israel would decline.[iv]
But here's the thing: Israel could not do both of the things it wanted. It could not remain a covenant community and be like the other nations. Ultimately, in its attempt to be who it wanted to be, the tribes ended up being just like those it opposed.
Sitting and listening to graduation speakers, I often find myself mumbling under my breath as the speaker misquotes Dr. Seuss. While you can try to be the person you have always wanted to be as you figure out the places you'll go, here's the thing: we can’t be uniquely who God calls each one of us to be and also be just like everyone else. Like Israel trying to build identity in the image of their neighbors, when we veer from the people and community God has called us to be, we miss the point that while God made you uniquely you, God also made you and this community to be a means of grace. You are a means of grace in all of the places you will go.
On the surface, Israel's desire for a king sounds like a political matter, and in part, it is. But the broader issue for Israel and for us today is the issue of calling.
To be called and set apart by God is no small feat, and the calling upon each individual and community is specific to the people and community called. The ways you are called by God are different from the ways God had called me. How you have been called by God is different from how God will call your children, partner, or friends. And the calling upon Walker Chapel differs from how God has called other faith communities.
The message to the Israelites is the same as the message to us today—we can't tell God what to do. By allowing God to be God, being open to the ways and places God calls each of us, and trusting that God always has our best interests at heart, we can choose to allow God’s grace to guide, equip, and strengthen us.
There is a movement within the church and academia to rid the church of words like "king" and "lord." This is in part because the language is gendered, and we know that God cannot be contained by gender. Taking a step beyond gender, you know from history, we know from our scripture reading that words like “king” and “lord” are often associated with rulers who trade their people's basic needs and safety for their own comforts and desires. You can look back throughout history and find that even the best of our "kings" or leaders were flawed individuals who, regardless of how beloved they were/are, failed to live up to the standard demanded of them by their people and God.
I am becoming increasingly convinced that we shy away from words like “king” and “lord” because they reveal more about the people we choose as leaders, more about us, than those words do about the One Lord who chose a donkey over a war horse, who told his disciples to put their swords away, and who, while nearing death, extended forgiveness over revenge to those who drove the nails through his flesh.
The Good News is that God sent us a true king who served us to the point of death. This king is not the warrior king we often long for. Nor is this king one who will rule through coercion, oppression, or division. Christ invites all of us, by living into our calling, to become a means of grace to one another. And, in becoming a means of grace to one another, we move closer to the fulfillment of the Kingdom of God. A kingdom where we no longer need a warrior king because our weapons are now farming tools. The kingdom where all truly means all. The kingdom where grace overflows.
[i] 1 Samuel 8:5
[ii] Exodus 19:4-6 and Deuteronomy 7:7-11
[iii] 1 Samuel 8:19-20
[iv] 1 Samuel 15:10
Caps, Gown, and Crowns