How the Mighty Have Fallen
2 Samuel 1:1, 17-27; Luke 13:31-35
June 28, 2015
The story is told of a young American pilot who was quite accident-prone. It seems
everything he did went wrong. He was stationed aboard an aircraft carrier in the Pacific
during the Second World War. There was some question as to whether he would be
allowed to fly since no one knew what might happen. But the situation became desperate
and the American forces needed all the pilots they could get. So the young man was sent
out on a mission.
To the young man's surprise, everything seemed to be going his way. He spotted
and sunk a Japanese warship. He shot down a number of Japanese Zeros. Out of
ammunition and almost out of fuel, the pilot attempted to return to his aircraft carrier, but
he couldn't spot it. Suddenly the clouds opened up and directly below was an aircraft
carrier. For once, his landing was flawless. He jumped out of his plane and rushed up to
the first person he saw to share the details of his successful mission. He boasted about
sinking a Japanese warship and downing several fighters.
The commander to whom he was reporting all this responded, "Ha So!" The young
American pilot had landed on a Japanese aircraft carrier.
The pilot in that story is similar to the Amalekite in 2 Samuel Chapter 1. The verses
that we skipped over in our reading for today tell about David receiving the news that King
Saul and his son Jonathan are dead. The news is delivered by an Amalekite. In fact, he
boasts to be the very man who himself killed Saul. Now he’s running to report the whole
thing to David.
It's possible that that Amalekite did not know that David had just three days earlier
fought a battle against some Amalekites who had attacked him. This man had been at
Mount Gilboa, where Saul and his army were battling the Philistines. David had been away
at Ziklag, waiting for word of what was happening with the army of Israel. There was
about 100 miles distance between these two places so as the man ran to report what had
happened with Saul it's likely he didn't know what had been happening with David.
Perhaps if he had known, he would have withheld the part of his story where he
said repeatedly that he was an Amalekite. Perhaps if he had known how David felt about
Saul and Jonathon, he wouldn't have bragged about the fact that he was the one who killed
Saul. But he didn't know those things.
What the Amalekite did know was this – he knew that Saul viewed David as his
enemy and that Jonathan was David's rival for the throne. So surely the news of their
deaths would be greeted by David as good news. The man runs for three days to bring the
word to David. When he arrives at the end of his three day run, ragged, weary and worn
out, he tells David, "I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that Israel was
defeated in battle. The good news is that Saul and Jonathan are dead. Now you can ascend
to the throne free from any rival."
To David this is all bad news. He grieves over Israel’s loss. But even more so, he
grieves over the deaths of Saul and Jonathan. Saul may have considered David his enemy,
but that does not mean that David bought into Saul’s delusions. And regardless of how
complicated their circumstances were, Jonathan had been David's best friend and David's
love for him had never changed.
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Our Old Testament lesson for today is David’s funeral song for Saul and Jonathan,
his lament for the loss of loved ones that were still so dear to him, and to all the people of
Israel. “Look how the mighty have fallen,” he cries out. “Saul and Jonathan! So well loved,
so dearly cherished!” “Daughters of Israel, weep over Saul!” “I grieve for you, my brother
Jonathan! You were so dear to me!”
Prior to that lament, in the section that we skipped over, the Amalekite who ran for
three days to report to David that his enemy and rival for the throne was dead, well he
didn’t get the reward he was expecting. He thought he was bringing good news. He
presented to David the crown from Saul’s head and the bracelet from his arm, signs of
Saul’s reign as king, presented now to David, the new and newly unrivaled king. The man
called David “my master,” presenting himself as a loyal subject. He thought for the life of
him that David would be pleased with him for clearing the way to the throne. Not so.
“Strike him down!” David ordered one of his servants. “Your blood is on your own
head,” he told the Amalekite, “because your own mouth testified against you when you
admitted, ‘I killed the Lord’s anointed.’” As far as David was concerned, no matter what
anybody thought of Saul and Saul’s leadership and the mistakes Saul had made and the
sins Saul had committed, still Saul was “the Lord’s anointed.” Sure, David had been
chosen by God to succeed Saul, but as long as Saul lived, David still considered himself
Saul’s subject.
David had had opportunities to kill Saul. He refused to do it. Even though Saul
wanted David dead, even though Saul tried numerous times to kill David, even though
Saul chased and terrorized David all over the countryside trying to do away with him,
David refused to turn against Saul.
Why? Because Saul was his king. Because Jonathan was his friend. Because Saul
was the Lord’s anointed, put in the position he was in by God himself. Because David
trusted God enough to leave it in God’s hands when and how, and even if, he would
become king. And on top of all of that, David’s song of lament makes it clear, because
David still loved and revered Saul. David still loved and respected Jonathan.
“See how the mighty have fallen!” There is a word of caution in that statement. The
caution is not the way David intended it, but it’s there nonetheless. For David this was a
very straightforward word of grief. Saul was indeed mighty. He was tall. He was strong.
He was a tremendous warrior, leading armies in battle. He was a skilled leader, building up
Israel as a nation. And now he was gone. Now he was dead. How the mighty have fallen.
The word of caution in that is that the mighty do indeed fall, sometimes quickly
and hard. And sometimes it’s in the pursuit of their own might that they do themselves in.
Saul had lost favor with God. Years earlier Saul had lost favor with God because he
had failed to follow God’s instructions. What Saul had failed in didn’t seem like such a
hugely unfaithful thing. He had simply failed to wait for Samuel when Samuel was
delayed. But what Saul did or failed to do wasn’t the point. The point was that God
decided from that point on to remove his Spirit from Saul and to place his Spirit instead
with David, whom God had chosen as Saul’s replacement.
At first Saul was quite fond of David. David played calming music for Saul. David
defeated Goliath for Saul. David deferred to Saul on any and every matter. But as David
became more and more popular with the people, Saul became more and more deranged. He
didn’t want the popularity and power that he believe he was entitled to as king to go to
David instead of him. And so he turned on David and began to plot against him.
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The thing is, David never once, even after Saul turned on him and tried to have him
killed, David never once tried to take Saul’s place. And in spite of the fact that the people
of Israel loved David, perhaps even more than they loved Saul, they still looked to Saul as
their king. If Saul hadn’t been so concerned with doing away with David to protect his own
image, he and David could have fought together to defend Israel instead of fighting one
another and losing battles all along the way. Bottom line is Saul probably could have been
king for many more years if he hadn’t been so obsessed with building himself up.
Perhaps that’s why the scriptures say, “Pride cometh before the fall.” Saul was
prideful. Saul was jealous. Saul was mighty but not mighty enough to suit himself. He tried
to make himself even more mighty and in the end he did himself in.
It’s a common theme, isn’t it? How often have we seen it happen? I think of
Richard Nixon who almost certainly would have won reelection in 1972 anyway, but he
didn’t want to leave that to chance. Two years later he resigned in disgrace.
I think of Tom Brady who almost certainly would have won the Superbowl even
with regulation footballs. I think of all the asterisks in sports record books of players who
broke records but will forever be remember not just for the records they broke but for the
rules they broke in trying to do it. How the mighty continue to fall time and time again.
Our Gospel lesson for today demonstrates the same theme. I confess I broke away
from the Lectionary on this one. The lectionary reading is from Mark 5. I chose Luke 13
instead because the words of Jesus sound so similar to the words of David. “Jerusalem,
Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those who are sent to you!...Look, your
house is abandoned.”
Just as Saul was God’s anointed leader, so too was Jerusalem God’s holy city. And
just as David was sent to complete the work begun by Saul, so too was Jesus sent to fulfill
the atoning work begun in the temple. Just as Saul resented and rejected David and sought
to have him killed, so too Jerusalem resented and rejected Jesus and sought to have him
killed. And just as Saul’s campaign against David brought about his own demise, so too
Jerusalem would be laid to waste and those who rejected Jesus would exclude themselves
from the atonement he came to bring.
And just as David, in spite of all Saul’s plotting against him, continued to love Saul
and mourned over his demise, so too Jesus, in spite of all that the people of Jerusalem were
about to do to him, continued to love them and spoke about how much he longed to gather
them under his care and protection. “Jerusalem, Jerusalem…How often I have wanted to
gather your people just a hen gathers her chicks under her wings. But you didn’t want
that.”
They insisted on being in charge. They insisted on doing away with any contenders
to their power and authority. And in the process the destroyed all the power and authority
they ever had. Indeed, they destroyed their own lives. “You didn’t want that,” said Jesus.
“Look, your house is abandoned.” “See how the mighty have fallen.”
“Those who humble themselves will be exalted,” said Jesus, “and all who exalt
themselves will brought low.” “The first will be last and the last shall be first.” There’s just
no two ways about it – those who chase after power and glory and praise in this world –
they might find it for a while, they may even enjoy it for quite a long time, but their wealth
and their pride will be their destruction. Sooner or later the mighty will fall, sometimes
quickly and hard, sometimes not as soon, but their destruction will be absolute and
unending.
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There was a moment at which it appeared that the mightiest of all had fallen. The
Jewish leaders and Roman authorities teamed up to bring down Jesus. Both parties saw
him as a threat – to the Jewish leaders a threat to their religious monopoly, to the Romans a
threat to the pax Romana. Not that Jesus saw himself in that way. He didn’t buy into their
delusion. But that didn’t matter.
David didn’t see himself as a threat to Saul. In fact, nothing would have pleased
David more than to support and defend Saul on behalf of the nation. Jesus wasn’t trying to
do away with the religious leaders or the peace of Rome. He wanted to strengthen the faith
of Israel and peace in the world. But they didn’t want his help. They didn’t want him
around. They didn’t want Jesus to get the recognition they thought they deserved. Jesus,
they determined, must die.
Some good-hearted and well-meaning people tried to warn Jesus of what was
coming. “Get out of here,” they cautioned, “Herod is out to get you.” But unlike David,
Jesus did not run. Jesus would not hide. Jesus had his sights set on Jerusalem and that’s
exactly where he would go. And in his words he points to exactly what will happen there.
Jesus is going there to die.
That’s exactly what happened. The Jewish leaders surrounded him. The Roman
authorities condemned him. Jesus was put to death. How the mighty have fallen.
Except he hadn’t. Jesus hadn’t fallen. Jesus hadn’t been defeated. Jesus hadn’t
exulted himself and been brought low by others. In fact, it was the very opposite. Jesus
humbled himself, Jesus brought himself low, so that God might raise him up and exult
him.
Jesus, who was in the very form and nature of God, humbled himself to become
human, to be born as a man. He grew just like we all do. He learned just like we all do. He
suffered just like we all do. And he didn’t try to avoid any of it. He didn’t try to escape his
accusers or protect himself. He gave himself up. He presented himself for the shame of the
trial and the torment of the crucifixion.
It appeared to those who considered him the enemy that they had won. They
believed their enemy had fallen, never to be heard from again.
But on the third day – there it is, the third day – remember Jesus saying, “I’m
throwing out demons and healing people today and tomorrow, and on the third day I will
complete my work”? – on the third day God raised him up. On the third day God showed
once and for all who the truly mighty One is. In the resurrection, God vindicated Jesus
Christ and put him in the seat of eternal and almighty power.
Jesus shows us where true might comes from. Not the backing of the military. Not
the adoration of the people. Not the trappings of political power. Not from smooth talking
nor strong fighting. True might comes from humbling one’s self and serving others,
serving all. True might comes from self-sacrifice and unconditional love. True might
comes from an absolute and unwavering devotion to the will and the ways of God.
Those who are truly mighty find their strength in the Lord. These mighty will never
be brought low. These mighty will never fall. Those who are mighty in Lord will endure
forever. Might we be numbered among them. Amen.
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