Samuel Anointed David, a sermon based on 1 Samuel 16: 1-12, preached on October 22, 2023

On Monday mornings, I often wish for a redo of the previous day’s sermon. More often than not, I wake up wishing that I could change or rephrase something that I’d said the day before. No doubt, the same thing will happen tomorrow. Surely between now and tomorrow morning, something will happen. Maybe one of you will say the perfect thing that I wish I would have said, or will ask me the perfect question on your way out of here, a question that I hadn’t even thought to address. Maybe this afternoon, you’ll email me, and I’ll think to myself, “Had she asked me that question on Saturday, I might have written a much better sermon for Sunday morning.” So it happened after the last sermon that I preached on the boy Samuel. I preached that sermon two weeks ago. In today’s second Scripture lesson, he has grown into a man, but in the passage that we read together two weeks ago, he was only a boy sleeping on the floor of the Holy of Holies when the voice of God woke him up. You likely know about the Holy of Holies. It was the most sacred place in the Temple where the Ark of God was kept. The Ark, as the Rev. Cassie Waits told us last Sunday, held holy relics from the time of Moses. In it were the pieces of the Ten Commandments, the priest Aaron’s staff, as well as a golden jar containing manna from the wilderness. The Ark was also God’s throne. The people believed that God would come and sit on the Ark as a king in the throne room. Why, then, would the boy Samuel have been using that space as his bedroom? That’s the question Harriette Majoros asked me the Monday after I preached my last sermon. It’s a wonderful question, and I want to take a moment today to try and answer it because this question will help us to better understand the prophet Samuel and the impact he made on the nation of Israel. Here’s what we must all understand about the prophet Samuel: Samuel left Israel better than he found it. Like a boy scout who came upon a mess that he didn’t make, he cleaned things up and made things better. Even though the mess wasn’t his making in the first place, he left things in Israel better than he found them. When it came to the Temple when Samuel was a boy, the Temple was not the revered and respected space it should have been. Temple practice had devolved. The priesthood was corrupt. That the Holy of Holies had turned into a boy’s bedroom is a good indication of how far standards had fallen in the Temple and among the priesthood, so imagine with me what the religious life of that nation had become. In those days before Samuel, things were bad when it came to the maintenance of divine worship. The spiritual life of the people lacked integrity. The priest Eli was in charge, and he was known to be pious and kind; however, both his sons were known to be scoundrels. Whenever anyone offered a sacrifice, Eli’s sons would grab a fork. That’s literally what the Bible says: 1st Samuel 2: 12: Now the sons of Eli were scoundrels; they had no regard for the Lord or for the duties of the priests. When anyone offered sacrifice, [they] would come while the meat was boiling, with a three-pronged fork in [their] hand, and [they] would thrust it into the pan, or kettle, or caldron, or pot; all that the fork brought up [they] would take for [themselves]. Furthermore, when women came to the Temple, they faced harassment from these sons who abused their power, used their office for personal gain, and when the nation went to war with the Philistines, Eli’s sons thought that bringing the Ark out to the battle front might turn the tide, giving Israel an advantage. Instead, the army retreated, Eli’s sons were killed, and the Ark was captured by the heathen Philistines. I tell you this today because I want you to understand how things were in Israel before the time of Samuel. I want you to know that Samuel left Israel better than he found it. Before Samuel, things were bad. Why did he sleep in the Holy of Holies as a boy? It’s because things at the Temple were a mess. There was corruption in the priesthood. Things in the government weren’t much better. We hear in the book of Judges about the government of Israel before the time of Samuel. If you know anything about the book of Judges, it’s likely the very last verse: In those days there was no king in Israel; all the people did what was right in their own eyes. How does that sound? Some might say, “That sounds familiar.” You could say that, but I also want you to hear that it was nearly chaos, and what you need to know about Samuel is that he is the bridge between that time of the Judges, those days of near chaos and occasional heroism, and the reign of King David. What you need to know about Samuel is that he reformed the Temple and the nation, leaving things in Israel far better than he found them, thanks be to God, but hear this account of Samuel and know that we are not the first nation to experience good times and bad times. The 21st Century is not the first chapter in human history when good people wanted to throw up their hands in disgust and disappointment. Now is not the first age in need of religious renewal. Samuel stepped onto the stage and things got better. Thanks be to God. Yet to truly get his beloved nation on the right course, there was something else that he needed to do. He did something that we all should do after dedicating ourselves and our days to service. After improving things in his nation and at the Temple, he listened to the voice of God again as God called him to consider who would lead after he was gone. Having run his race in faith, God asked him, “To whom will you pass the baton?” Having served the Lord faithfully, “What will you do to prevent things from going backward once you’ve died?” Samuel lived a life worthy of our remembrance, but look with me today to our second Scripture lesson and notice the greatest thing he did: Answering God’s call again, Samuel anointed David. This is a beautiful thing, to pass the work on to the next generation. My friend Mike Velardi remembers the Rev. Dr. Joan Gray asking him repeatedly, “Mike, who’s behind you? Who will keep things going?” Samuel anointed David. Obeying God’s call, the work that God began in Samuel continued with David so that Israel’s greatest days were not in the past but in the future. Think of these things with me today and remember how important it is, not just for us to do our best, but for us to have some faith in the next generation. Today, I remember the words of billionaire Warren Buffett: The perfect inheritance is enough money so that children feel they can do anything, but not so much that they could do nothing. Think about that with me. How can we help our children to believe that they can do anything? How can we help them to answer the call of God on their lives? How can we show them that just as God called us to live for a higher purpose and to find deeper meaning, so also does God call them to do more than entertain themselves on their phones? Speaking of inheritance and money, I remember not ever knowing how much my parents gave to this church. Money wasn’t something that anyone in my family ever talked about. Was it the same in your family? I once asked about my father’s salary, and my mom acted as though I’d just asked to investigate his underwear drawer. Money was not something that we talked about, ever. Yet more recently, my dad told me that he once received a call from the session, where an elder thanked him for being a substantial financial contributor to the church. To hear that his was one of the larger gifts came as a great surprise, and it also embarrassed him because in my house we didn’t talk about money. However, it was good for me to hear that. Hearing what my father gave this church provided enough information for me to understand that being a part of a church requires a certain level of financial commitment. Keeping this place going doesn’t just happen, and you don’t have to be a millionaire to make a difference. Likewise, I remember hearing as a kid that Dr. James O. Speed, then the Senior Pastor, tithed a full 10% of his income, and if the church needed it and his household could afford it, he would give even more. My friends, I want you to know that I do the same thing. 10% of what you pay me goes right back into this church. I learned that from my father. I learned that from Jim Speed. I learned that it is possible to do something powerful with what God has given me, and I want my children to learn the same thing because it’s not enough for me to leave this place better than I found it. We must pass the tradition of generosity to the next generation. Having answered God’s call ourselves, we must teach others to hear His voice and to follow, that they might know the joy of giving to something that is worth believing in. First Presbyterian Church of Marietta will soon be 200 years old. The Gospel will be no less necessary in 200 more years than it was 200 years ago. May our example now shape that future, and may the future be brighter than our yesterdays. Let us show our children and our grandchildren how it’s done. Let us set an example for them to follow. While I was writing this sermon, Denise Lobodinski texted me a quote: “The world is changed by your example, not by your opinion.” That’s a good one, isn’t it? I’m thankful she sent it to me on Thursday rather than Monday. Consider with me how important your example is, and what a powerful moment it was for me as a kid to line up with this entire congregation and to walk down that aisle to make a pledge following the example of my Sunday school teachers, pastors, youth advisors, and parents. This morning, the children will be watching us. They’ll see us as we invest in this church. As we invest in her future. As we give a portion of what God has given us to make ministry possible for another year, may they see in us the kind of generosity that not only ensures this place will make it another year, but may they hear us encourage them to believe that through them God will do more than we ever dreamed. It’s true that Samuel left Israel better than he found it, but David was that nation’s greatest king. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that the children who will grow up to reform this nation and revitalize the Church are sitting right in here with us. What they need from us today is our example and our blessing. Friends, let us show them how to follow the Lord, that they might also hear His voice and answer His call. Amen.

Is It I, Lord? A sermon based on 1 Samuel 3: 1-10, preached on October 8, 2023

The first time I really paid attention to our second Scripture lesson, this story of the boy Samuel sleeping on the Temple floor, I was a camper at Camp Cherokee. No doubt, many of you remember Camp Cherokee. It was a Presbyterian camp on Lake Allatoona. A few here today were campers there. Many others in this church remember their kids going. I was first a camper, then a counselor, and as a 9- or 10-year-old camper, I had the chance to act out this story for an evening vespers service. I was chosen for the starring role of the boy Samuel, so I know this story well. I embodied it. Is that like saying, “I’m not a doctor, but I played one on TV?” I’m not an Old Testament scholar like Dr. Brennan Breed, but during the chapel service at camp Cherokee, I pretended to be Samuel asleep on the Temple floor, and ever since then, I’ve loved this Scripture lesson. While I played Samuel, one friend played old Eli, another was the voice of God. What I remember most was waking up Old Eli. I thought it would add some punch to the story if, the third time I heard the voice, I ad-libbed a little bit. I said something like, “Enough of this, you old fogey. I’m trying to sleep in here. Quit calling me.” I’ve remembered that. Then, in the youth group here, we’d sing the song that this second Scripture lesson inspired. We’ll sing it again at the end of the service: “Here I am, Lord. Is it I, Lord? I have heard you calling in the night.” As a young person who dreamed of being a preacher, singing that hymn with the youth group, I was always hoping that it might be true: that God would call me by name and want me to do something. It’s one thing, though, to hear a voice, and it’s another thing to know that it’s God calling. That’s why I love this second Scripture lesson because here I see that even Samuel who was sleeping on the Temple floor, the very place he had been raised to know that God lived, didn’t believe that God would ever call him to do anything. Four times God had to call him. The first three times, Samuel assumed it was Eli, even though he was sleeping on the Temple floor where God was known to live, even though he was sleeping right beside the Ark of the Covenant that was known to be God’s throne. Think about that. We imagine that the heroes of the Bible were all like Charlton Heston, playing the role of Moses. In that old movie, Charlton Heston looked on that sea with confidence. He just dared that water not to divide, sure that the people would survive and positive that God was at work maybe because he already knew the end of the story, yet the Bible tells us that Moses led the people through the sea like a flock of sheep. Have you ever led a flock of sheep through what was once a body of water? Sheep are scared. So are we. So was Moses. So was Samuel. Hear then, in our second Scripture lesson, a lesson about faith and how faith is actually passed down from one generation to the next. Hear the account in the Bible and forget about how Hollywood tells it, for as faith is passed down, it’s not always pretty. It’s often terrifying. God’s people doubt and question. When God speaks, even Samuel had to learn how to listen. Let us give thanks for Eli today, for Eli taught Samuel how to do it. Our second Scripture lesson began: “Now the boy Samuel was ministering to the Lord under Eli. The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread. At that time Eli, whose eyesight had begun to grow dim so that he could not see, was lying down in his room; the lamp of God had not yet gone out.” The lamp of God had not yet gone out. The lamp of God had not yet gone out. “Not yet” is one of those great phrases. Our second Scripture lesson repeats it three times. Eli had not yet lost his eyesight, but it had begun to grow dim. He wasn’t blind, not yet. The lamp of God had not yet gone out. It was flickering, but the light was not out. Not yet. Of course, as Eli aged and considered what would happen to the Temple when he was gone, he wondered who would maintain the worship life of his nation, and he looked to his sons. They were still alive. They hadn’t proved themselves to be completely useless. Not yet., but the light was flickering, so surely as Eli lay waiting for sleep or death to take him, he worried about what would happen after he was gone. Who would take over? Who would carry on the tradition? Who would remind the people of God’s mighty hand that acts to change the course of history? In those days of Eli, visons were not widespread. The word of the Lord was rare in those days, Scripture tells us. The light was flickering. Would it go out? Who would carry on? Much of what our ancestors cherished has been lost, hasn’t it? I mentioned Camp Cherokee. I loved that place. My sister really loved that place. There’s no place on this earth where I’ve seen her ever happier. After going to camp there for summers in elementary school, we both became counselors. The summer we were counselors together was probably the summer we were the closest. That whole summer we were together, but now that camp has closed. It’s gone. The light has gone out, so also has the light gone out on all kinds of things to which we might say “Good riddance.” The light has gone out on rotary phones. The light has gone out on fax machines. The light has gone out on segregation, poll taxes, and pantyhose, but let us recognize today where the light is still burning brightly. Where has faith been passed successfully down from one generation to the next? What has God, by His mercy, by His providence, by His divine plan, nurtured, preserved, and sustained? This church. I heard two weeks ago that only three members of our church are left who can trace their roots to those 12 families who started First Presbyterian Church back in 1835. 12 families started this church; their descendants have moved away or moved on. Only 3 members are left who can trace their family trees back to the original 12 families, while every person here today is blessed by their legacy. Like Samuel, who was adopted, taken in by Eli, every person here today has claimed her inheritance for her own, for while Eli’s sight was growing dim, God still has a vision for the future. While Eli’s sight was growing dim and while the light may have flickered from time to time, consider with me how brightly the light burns here today. For 60 years, our preschool has been educating kids. Today, there are more students than ever before, and even while our preschool director, Betsy Sherwood, has created space for all these students in rooms that have never been used as classrooms before, there’s still a waiting list of 100. Only how did it start? It started with a dream. It started with a prayer. It started with a nudge from God, yet now the light shines brightly. Likewise, for more than 30 years, our afterschool program, born amid a Sunday school class whose members dared to believe they could do something to nurture underserved kids, has made a difference to generations of children. I saw a picture on Facebook of one, a child who came to our church for afterschool care who just started her senior year at Notre Dame University. Last week, I went to Hickory Hills Elementary School with Buck Buchanan to deliver dictionaries on behalf of the Rotary Club, and kids in those classes recognized me as Pastor Joe. “It’s me, Jordie,” one said. “Pastor Joe, Pastor Joe, I go to Club 3:30 at your church,” they said. One in 10 students at that school has been coming here for more than 30 years, but how did it start? It started with a dream in a Sunday school class. It started with a prayer. It started with a nudge from God as the light began to flicker, yet now it burns so brightly that every member of the school board knows about it, so consider with me this morning that hearing and responding to God’s voice is not always easy. It’s not always the way Charlton Heston made it look in the movies. It’s more like the boy Samuel who needs help believing that God would call him by name. For him to believe that God would call him by name required Eli, one who remembered what it looks like when God is at work. The Lord called Samuel again, a third time. And he got up and went to Eli and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” Then Eli perceived that the Lord was calling the boy. Therefore Eli said to Samuel, “Go, lie down; and if he calls you, you shall say, ‘Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.’” During the pandemic, I received a phone call from a member of the Marietta City Schools staff asking if we’d like to distribute food from the Atlanta Food Bank. Had Charlton Heston been the one to receive the call, it would have been a confident and clear “yes,” but Charlton Heston didn’t receive the call. I did, and when I heard about this opportunity, the first thing I did was doubt that it was a good idea, yet my friends, I’m the pastor of a church where a group of mothers felt the nudge to start a preschool and a Sunday school class worried about latchkey kids and dared to believe that God might be calling them to do something about it, and so while I was doubtful, while I wasn’t certain, I asked a couple members of the staff to look into it. One of them was Cassie Waits, who dared to believe that we might pull it off. Next thing you know, millions of meals have been distributed, and thousands of families have been fed. Each Tuesday morning, so many churches members sort through the produce. Each Tuesday afternoon, they distribute the food to the hundreds of cars who line up through our parking lots. I remember in the early days of the program, a neighboring church member called me. I was worried he called to complain about the cars who were blocking traffic on his way home. Instead, he asked, “How far would $2,000 go?” Here me say to you today, God is at work in this place. God is at work here. It’s not always pretty. It’s not always easy to see. That’s because God doesn’t always speak in thunderstorms and earthquakes. Sometimes, the voice of God is heard in that still, small voice, which might be His or might just be the old fogey sleeping in the next room over. We don’t always know. It’s not always clear. Still, I want you to dare to believe something with me this morning. I want you to dare to believe that God is calling you to do something with your life, with your resources, with your time, for Christianity is no spectator sport, and we are not called to sleep through the night quietly when we hear about the brokenness of our world. Our only recourse is not despair, but to wake up and hear His voice, to listen, to do something, to respond to the call, to walk out on the water though we might sink, to reach out to our neighbor though she might tell us to keep on walking, for God is at work here. God is still speaking, but you and I must learn to listen and to say, “Here I am. Send me.” “Speak, Lord, your servant is listening.” My friends, we’re right here in October, and soon, if you haven’t already, you’ll end up with a pledge card in your hand. As you look at it, I want you to ask yourself, “What might God do through me if I were willing?” “What might God do in this church if I were more willing to give of myself?” I’ve been trying to listen. I’ve been trying to follow. I’ve been singing that song for so long, “Here I am, Lord, Is it I, Lord,” just hoping that it might be me God was calling because I wanted to be like Samuel. I wanted God to use me for a higher purpose. If you’re the same way, then dare to respond with your whole heart this stewardship season, for when we are willing, God will work through us to do miraculous things. The light has not gone out. Visions may not be widespread these days, but this church has one. Answer the call. Step out in faith. God is still speaking, and God is at work here in those who are willing. Halleluiah. Amen.