2 Samuel 1:1-16 · David Hears of Saul’s Death
Song Of Loss Song Of Hope
2 Samuel 1:1-16
Sermon
by Charles Curley
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David loved Jonathan and, from the day they met, David was loved in return, with a love which has virtually defined the meaning of friendship down through the generations. "The soul of Jonathan was bound to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul." - 1 Samuel 18:1

The difficulty was that Jonathan was Saul's son and heir. Jonathan was to be the next king of Israel, following his father, King Saul. God had disinherited Jonathan, dethroned Saul, and sent Samuel to anoint David King of Israel - but Saul and Jonathan didn't know that yet. Oh, Saul knew there was something wrong with this boy-warrior who had appeared out of nowhere, who had won the adulation of the crowds, the loyalty of Saul's son Jonathan, and the love of Saul's daughter Michal, who became David's wife. Saul knew something was wrong, and so, the scripture says, "Saul was afraid of David, because the Lord was with him, but he had departed from Saul." - 1 Samuel 18:26

Saul tried to kill David. First he tried to kill David by pinning him to the wall with his spear. When that did not work, he declared him an outlaw and ordered his execution. David, however, proved elusive. After many failed attempts at reconciliation negotiated by Jonathan, acting as a go-between, David finally took his followers and went off, far away from Saul. Thus David was not present on Mount Gilboa when the armies of Saul met Israel's enemies the Philistines in their last, conclusive battle. Israel was defeated. Saul and Jonathan were killed. And a messenger set out to bring the crown to David.

David did not rejoice at the death of Saul and Jonathan. He tore his clothing as a sign of his grief, and David and all who were with him: "mourned and wept, and fasted ... for Saul and for his son Jonathan, and for the army of the Lord and for the house of Israel, because they had fallen by the sword." Then David sang his grief, out loud, for all to hear: "Your glory, O Israel, lies slain upon your high places. How the mighty have fallen." - 1 Samuel 1:19

What can we learn, and how can we find ourselves in David's grief? Last week we saw how David, faced with depression, talked and talked and talked. He talked his way out of depression, when our most frequent way of dealing with depression is silence, withdrawal, cutting ourselves off from those around us. Now David, filled with grief, sang aloud. He made his grief public; he did not bottle it up inside. In fact, from our 20th century perspective, we would probably describe David's actions as inappropriate or overly dramatic. Had we been present, we might have been somewhat embarrassed, or even slightly ashamed at this outpouring of emotion, emotion which we feel is best kept inside. We are, in this society, such extreme individualists that we have forgotten the communal nature of grief. In our world grief is a private, personal, individual thing. We say to someone who is grieving, "I don't want to intrude on your grief." It is as though we could never understand, or share, or be part of what they are going through. Oh, we do our grieving. We sing our own painful songs of loss, but we sing them inside - in isolation from others.

David knew the void which the deaths of Saul and Jonathan left in his own life. He also knew the greater void they left in the life of the nation. But David knew more than this. He knew, in the words of the poet John Donne (who also lived in a less individualistic time), "Any man's death diminishes me." We see so much pain and loss and death around us in our world, in the streets of Serbia, and Lebanon, and Detroit. Why don't we rage like David over such loss?

David sang his grief for all to hear, until all the people joined in his song. David knew that grief shared is grief transformed. The modern therapeutic mentality of 20th century America thinks of grief as something to be "worked through," as if we just manage to find the proper technique to work through our grief in the correct way, everything will be all right again.

I would not dare tell David: "Don't worry, everything will be all right." David knows that everything will never be all right again. And, though you can hardly tell it from his song, David knows it never was all right. David, who lived in the hills and hid in caves because of Saul's anger, Saul's jealous rages, Saul's vindictive wrath, knew that there never was a time when everything was even close to being all right. So why did David grieve over Saul? Jonathan we can understand. "My brother Jonathan, greatly beloved." But Saul? "O daughters of Israel, weep over Saul."

We often say: "You should not speak ill of the dead." But David did far more than refrain from speaking ill of Saul. "Saul and Jonathan, beloved and lovely ... they were swifter than eagles, they were stronger than lions."

When I meet a family before a funeral I often say: "Tell me about the person you've lost." Their first words are usually, "He was a good man." "She was a good woman." Well, maybe they were and maybe they weren't, but that is what we need to remember about them, their goodness. Grief does that for us; grief magnifies the good. Grief reminds us of the treasures we have been given in the relationships of everyday life; treasures we often do not recognize until they are gone. I knew two brothers who argued, fought and picked at one another every day of their lives, until one of them died. Then the one who was left experienced as much emptiness, loss and pain as anyone has ever felt for the most beloved brother.

Yes, Saul was David's enemy, Saul tried to kill David repeatedly. But just saying he was David's enemy in no way encompasses the complex range of feelings David had for Saul. His grief for both Saul and Jonathan is large and complex and difficult to understand. Such complex emotions as those David throws into this song are particularly difficult for us to understand in a world which constantly tries to reduce complex social, political and personal issues to simple statements which can be recorded in 20- to 30-second "sound bites." The complexities of David's feelings for Saul just don't fit.

As pastor of a downtown church I have from time to time been called by reporters from the local newspaper who asked questions about the "church's" position on issues like assisted suicide, abortion or capital punishment. Time after time I would struggle to give as clear and brief an answer as possible, and then I would see my 10-minute interview reduced to a 10-word statement in the news. I finally gave up even trying to comment on such complex issues in such a forum. Some things just can't be simplified. Life is never as simple as we try to make it.

Ambiguity is part of human relationships. From Saul and Jonathan, David received love and hate, pain and pleasure, rejection and affirmation; all of the things, in fact, which all of us have received at one time or another from those with whom God has put us into relationships of mother and father, sister and brother, husband and wife, friend and neighbor. But David grieves that his relationship with Saul has ended. Life is not ideal.

Relationships are not ideal. But relationships are precious and important gifts from God. Sometimes only loss and grief show us just how precious and important others are to us: even those with whom we have some ambivalence, some disagreement, some pain in our relationship, like Saul's relationship with David. God had anointed David to be king over Israel, because God saw something in David's heart greater than in the hearts of those around him. But up to now we have not had the opportunity to see what God saw in the heart of David. I suspect that David could sing about Saul in the same way that he sings about Jonathan because, no matter how hard Saul tried, Saul could not alienate the love that was in David's heart. It is sad not to appreciate what we have until we lose it. David's great grief for Saul and Jonathan should remind us how important are the relationships which are the most invisible, because they are the ones closest to us, the ones we take most for granted.

This is why David's song is a song of hope, as well as a song of loss. It is a song of hope because the love in David's heart was poured out on both Jonathan, who loved him in return, and on Saul, who did not. It is a song of hope because it reminds us how important relationships are to us; how they transcend all the petty annoyances, disagreements, jealousies of everyday life. That's a reminder we need to hear.

Thank God for David, whose song of loss is a song of hope as well. It is a song of hope for all of us who love and need one another, even though we sometimes fail to show it. But maybe it's a song that, with a little practice, we too can learn to sing.

Forgive us, O Lord, when we reduce the complexities of life to black or white, friends or enemies, "for us" or "against us." Help us to accept the subtle shadings of human relationships, to rejoice in the mystery of friendship and to mourn those times when anger separates us from one another. Grant us the grace of compassion, and the clarity of your love, poured out on all our encounters with one another. May we live so as to reflect your presence in our words and actions, all of our life long. Amen.

CSS Publishing Company, The Way Of The King, by Charles Curley