Evangelical Courage

The story of King David being confronted by the prophet Nathan raises questions of what it takes to speak — and listen — prophetically …

Evangelical Courage

2 Samuel 11:26 – 12:13a  Ephesians 4:1-16 

There are two things needed for an act of prophetic courage to take place. There must be a person who sees the truth and speaks it in a manner than can be heard by others. And there must be a person who recognizes the truth when it spoken.

This story of Nathan and David has both.

It is, to be honest, a somewhat sordid story. David is at home in his castle while his armies are fighting, and one day he commits adultery with Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah the Hittite, one of his generals. He brings Uriah home from the battle front, in hopes that he will go home and have relations with his wife, and the pregnancy will be assumed to be legitimate. But Uriah is not willing to enjoy the comforts of home while his compatriots are away fighting. David tries again – this time feeding him rich food and getting him drunk, but again Uriah decline to go home. Finally, David instructs one of his other generals to put Uriah in the most dangerous part of the fighting; he does, and Uriah is killed.

Now Nathan could have confronted the king with angry words and self-righteousness: “Shame on your for your adultery and for your acts of cowardice.” He could have, but he did not. Instead he told a story – the story of a rich man who takes advantage of a poor man. He told a story that appealed to the best and most noble instincts of David. And so David came to the defense of the poor man and condemned the rich one. Only then did Nathan connect the dots for his king: “You are that man.”

And David could have dismissed Nathan, or had him killed, too. He could have denied his misdeeds, distorted them, or rationalized them away. But he did none of those things. Instead, he said to Nathan, “I have sinned against the Lord.”

In the United Church of Christ, we put a good bit of energy into the prophetic process. We believe that we are called to examine the workings of the world around us, to recognize the places where injustice and exploitation are occurring, and to name those places. Further, we understand ourselves to be called to work to end injustice and exploitation, and to work for justice and peace. Nathan could be our poster-child – the person who exhibits the traits we most admire and want to emulate.

The same thing is true in our personal lives, I think. As we watch events around us we believe that we recognize places where relationships are flawed and processes go astray, and we are inclined to speak out about them. We offer our observations, our opinions, and our recommendations to our family and friends, our workplace colleagues, and our neighbors.

In our personal experiences, though, it doesn’t seem like there are many David’s responding to our prophetic orations. People we speak to seem reluctant – or even resistant – to hearing the truths that we are so eager to share with them.

That shouldn’t really surprise us, because we, ourselves, are also reluctant to hear voices that speak to us with prophetic certainty and urgency. We are not usually inclined to confess our mistakes as soon as they are pointed out to us. We are more likely to deny our wrongdoing, or to describe the complexity of the situation that makes our moral choices more complicated or compromised.

I would like to argue that we could use practice on both sides of this equation: both speaking and hearing.

Nathan is our teacher for the speaking side. He did not confront David directly, nor express his outrage at the outset. Instead, he appealed to David’s own sense of justice and honor. By telling a story, he indirectly led David to see the truth of his own infidelity and treachery. The power of this story came not only from Nathan’s outrage, but also from his sensitivity and his knowledge of the kind of man (and kind of King) that David was. He found the place where the current events intersected with David’s values and valor – and spoke there. He had listened faithfully, we presume, for God’s word of displeasure about David’s actions; he had also listened carefully for the best way and the best time to speak his piece. He had discerned not just truth, but method.

For the listening part of the process, we turn to David. And the first thing we need to notice is that David was already a man of principle. Some of his principles leave us uneasy; after all, he was a leader of his time and culture, and many of his actions seem violent and brutal to us. Nonetheless, there was a sense in which he knew his actions were wrong. It is not possible to listen respectfully to voices of criticism and prophesy if you do not have an underlying moral structure with which to evaluate what you hear.

The other thing that we notice is that David could make the connection between the story Nathan told and his own story. He may have begun hearing the tale of the rich man and the poor man as an abstract narrative, but when the punch line came, he saw the link right away.

In my mind, that was his moment of greatest test, and the moment of his greatest courage. His words go directly to the heart of the matter: “I have sinned against the Lord.” Given the implicit but dramatic choice between his own principles and appearance, he chose his principles.

John Thomas, the outgoing President and General Minister of our church, has often used the phrase “evangelical courage” to describe the actions of prophetic witness and courage taken by members of the United Church of Christ. In the present religious vocabulary, “Evangelical” is often heard used as a label for theologically and socially conservative Christians. I want to be sure that you hear the word in the senses that we use it in our own tradition.

First, “evangelical” refers to the “evangel,” the “good news.” Evangelical courage is moral and religious bravery that is grounded in the Good News of the gospels: that Jesus Christ calls us to be servants in the service of others, to practice love, and to pursue justice. We do these things not only as good citizens or moral persons, but as religious disciples of Jesus.

Second, “evangelical” refers to our own history, in particular to our ecclesial ancestors, who identified themselves as part of a great movement of faithful people. Here in Northfield, we are most aware of our Congregational forbearers, their commitment to a learned clergy, and their conviction that every gathering of Christians is the church. But as part of the United Church of Christ, we are also descended from those evangelical folks, who founded hospitals and nursing homes, were grounded in daily practice of study and prayer, and believed unswervingly in God’s hope for the uniting of the whole church.

Technically, then, neither Nathan nor David practiced Evangelical courage, since they lived long before the birth of Jesus. At the same time, we do them no disservice by noting that they lived out precisely the kind of integrity to which we twenty-first century Christians aspire.

May we find, in our faith, the clarity and skill to speak truth, and the honor and honesty to hear truth, as we see in their ancient story.

Prayer for August 2, 2009

Almighty and everlasting God, creator of all things seen and unseen, hear now our silent prayers, as we open our hearts to you in the sacred quietness.

God of faith and hope, we bring before you our prayers for those we have named this morning – we especially remember … Bring to each of them the gifts of mercy and grace that are most needed, according to your wisdom and love.

God of all life, we offer our prayers this morning particularly for our children – not just the ones related to us by adoption or birth, but all of the young ones around us.

We pray first in thanksgiving for their presence with us. Give us eyes and ears and hearts to welcome them as they are, to see them as precious members of our community and not as potential adults or future Christians. Make us wise observers of their gifts, so that we may understand Jesus when he tells us that we need to be like children to enter the kingdom of heaven.

But we pray also in concern. We bring before all of the children for whom life is difficult: those who live in poverty and need; those who face physical and mental challenges; those whose family lives are broken or dysfunctional; those who are teased, bullied, or mistreated. Bring help to each of them in the form of caring adults, a supportive community, and the gracious gift of hope.

God of nurture, we ask you to make us good parents, good teachers, good mentors, and good stewards of the young lives that have been put into our care. Help us to be patient and understanding, courageous and consistent, and affectionate and clear. Forgive us for those moments when impatience, fatigue, and other responsibilities interrupt our care giving, and give us resilience to return to this sacred task.

All this we pray in the name of the one who came to us as an infant, and who drew children to him, even Jesus the Christ, and we pray together now in the words that he taught us …