Sermon 6/27/2021
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Sermon 6/27/21
Sermon Series: Tell Me a Story
Theme: Stories that Inspire Compassion
Scripture: 2 Samuel 12:1-9, 13
Today is the fourth Sunday in our series “Tell Me A Story”. This week we will be taking a closer look at how a short little fictional story told by the prophet Nathan had a dramatic impact on one of Israel’s most important kings, King David.
To really appreciate the full meaning of Nathan’s story about the rich man and the poor man, we need to know a little more about David’s backstory.
At the time this story takes place, King David and his armies were in the midst of a war with the Ammonites. David was home in Jerusalem and was walking on the roof of his house when he saw a woman, Bathsheba, bathing. He called for her to be brought to him, and she was. Not long after this encounter, Bathsheba sent word that she was expecting a child. David quickly called for Bathsheba’s husband Uriah to return home from the battle. David’s plan was that the timing would make it appear that Bathsheba’s child was Uriah’s and not his. What he didn’t plan on was Uriah’s devotion to the soldiers serving under him who were still on the front lines of the battle and sleeping in the fields. On the first night Uriah refused to go to his house to rest. On the second night, David got him drunk, but still Uriah slept in the King’s house with the fellow servants. On the third day David sent Uriah back to the battle with a sealed note for his commanding officer with instructions for Uriah to be put on the front line and for the other soldiers to fall back so that Uriah might fall by the sword of the enemy. Uriah returned to the battle, the soldiers fell back as instructed and Uriah was struck down and killed.
I found this sketch which appears to be an illustration from a bible. It depicts the central figures in this story: Nathan and David in the center, Bathseba and their child on the right and Uriah’s body being brought home on the left.
What was David’s sin?
Well it appears that it is half of the 10 commandments: Thou shalt not covet, steal, commit adultery, lie and murder.
That is the way I have often heard the story told, and how I have told it myself. But the more time I spent with the scripture this week and the more I read and reread Nathan’s story about the poor man and his precious lamb, I began to see David’s transgressions in a new light. The prophet could have walked up to David and simply reminded him of the 10 commandments. But he didn’t. Instead, he told him a little story. A story about a poor man and his sweet lamb who ate from his table and slept on his breast. A story that aroused David’s empathy and compassion for the poor man.
David’s true sin - or perhaps you could say the root of all of his sins, was his failure of compassion and empathy. David was so focused on himself that he did not consider the wants and needs of Uriah and Bathsheba.
Enter Nathan who tells David a story that enables him to see the people around him from a new perspective. No longer are Uriah and Bathsheba pawns on a chess board to be manipulated to his advantage, but they are real people. People with families who are precious to them who they love with tenderness and affection, people with joys and sorrows, loves and hopes.
What magic power did Nathan use to reveal David’s blind spot and transform his heart and mind? A simple story. Stories have the power to help us see from someone else’s point of view. To inspire empathy and compassion.
What are your blind spots?
At first I thought it would be helpful for us to meditate on what our blind spots are. But, as the term clearly indicates, they are blind spots precisely because we aren’t able to perceive them. Despite our sincere intentions, we simply don’t see them. So I think rather than reflecting on our blind spots, I think it might be more helpful to reflect on our Nathans.
Who are your Nathans?
Who are the Nathans in our lives who help us see what we have overlooked. Who tells us the truth, even when it is hard to hear. Maybe it is your spouse, perhaps it is another family member or a friend. I officiated at my college roommate’s wedding. She talked about wanting her husband to be her “blind spot”. That was over 20 years ago, but it has stuck with me all this time. Perhaps it is merely an acquaintance or even a stranger that points something out that we were unaware of. There is one group of people that I think are excellent Nathans - and that is comedians. Comedians have the rare ability to help us see things that surprise and humble us but in a way that allows us to laugh at ourselves.
Interesting to me how we perceive famous people and their transgressions. While it is true that there are many powerful people throughout history who have abused their power and done great harm to others, my guess is we have just as many blind spots as they do. Perhaps the difference is that the King Davids and King Yertles do not have many Nathans or Macs. People around them who are willing to tell them the truth and try to stir up their compassion.
My Nathans
Over the last several weeks I have had conversations with some of you who have come to talk with me about my preaching and the struggles you are having with it. I want to thank you for having the courage and compassion to talk with me directly. I am grateful for your feedback to help me see my blind spots.
The truth of the matter is, we all have our blind spots. Although I have many blind spots, the one I have struggled with the most is feeling that for much of my life I have been sheltered from the harsh realities of the world. I remember a friend in high school quoting a Cat Stevens song to me before I went off to college. The lyrics were “Oh baby, baby it's a wild world, it’s hard to get by just upon a smile.” I’m not going to lie, my feeling were hurt when my friend said this to me, but I am also grateful.
My blind spot was my lived experience. I grew up in a comfortable middle class suburb of St. Louis in a strong, stable family with a lot of loving support: 2 loving parents, and an extended network of support from family members and our church communities. I didn’t know the hardship of poverty, of a problematic home life.
When I was around 10 years old my mother, recently ordained to the ministry, took a job as the Chaplain at ECHO. The Emergency Children’s Home in St. Louis that was owned and operated by the Christian Church Disciples of Christ to care for children who were abused and neglected. One day when I was visiting her at work, I picked up a book that was sitting on one of the shelves. The book was written by Hilda Stahl. It was part of a fictional book series the Elizabeth Gail Mysteries about a foster child who struggles to find a loving home. This book, and my mother’s work, opened my eyes to see that not all children my age lived the way that I did. Although I vaguely understood that my mom’s job was supporting children who weren’t able to live in their own homes due to abuse or neglect, it was the fictional book about a girl my own age that had more of an impact.
Reading a story about someone who had very different lived experiences than my own was a revelation and it set me on a path of lifelong love of books. Some of the most memorable ones were: “Bridge to Terabithia” by Katherine Patterson, John Steinbeck’s “The Grapes of Wrath”, Pearl S. Buck’s “The Good Earth” and Zora Neal Hurston’s “Their Eyes Were Watching God”.
What captivated me was having my eyes opened to worlds I didn’t know existed. Even though I didn’t realize it at the time, I can look back now and see that God was using those stories to open my eyes to the suffering of others and to teach me empathy. Books were my Nathan. The more I read, the more I began to see our shared humanity and find love and beauty in the midst of hardship.
Science shows that stories can increase empathy
I was fascinated to learn a few years back, that scientists have studied the impact of stories on increasing empathy.
A team of researchers from the University of Southern California led by Mary Helen Immordino-Yang
. . .monitored brain activity using [MRI] scans on participants who had been told inspirational and compassion-inducing stories.
The researchers found that the participants often would spontaneously reflect on their own lives and express a desire to be better people after hearing stories meant to induce admiration for virtue or compassion for social or psychological pain.
https://news.usc.edu/27811/inspiring-stories-can-lead-to-empathy/
I find this incredibly interesting but also exciting! God has hard wired us to be moved with compassion when we hear other’s stories. But that was not the most exciting revelation of my studies this week. The most exciting revelation was how God helped me see that my biggest blindspot of all, is how I view God in this story.
For years when I heard this story of David and Nathan this is what I pictured: [Image of Nathan pointing an accusing finger at David with the caption “You are the man!” The harsh and judgmental voice of God pointing a finger at David and condemning him for his egregious sins.
How unfair and uncharitable and just plain untrue was this image of God. God who is longsuffering, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love!! How could I have so completely missed the point of God’s story!? Isn’t this the same God who tells the story of the Prodigal Son?
The God runs to embrace us while we are still sinners.
The same God who in Jesus looked at the crowd with stones in their hands and said, “you who are without sin, cast the first stone.
The same Jesus who pleads with us to come together in love so that he might gather us all together as a mother hen gathers her brood under her wings.
This Jesus, who willingly took up his cross, and walked to Calvary to show us what compassion, empathy and love truly looks like.
My hope for all of us, is that whenever we encounter Nathan moments in our life. Stories that invite us to step outside of our way of seeing things. Stories that invite us into deeper relationship with one another by recognizing our shared humanity, our common joys and struggles. That we will seek God in those moments and recognize that God comes to us not to condemn us . . . but to draw us into deeper relationships of empathy and compassion for one another.