Saturday, June 22, 2013

1 Kings 21:1-15a - "The Power of God"


         King Ahab was in a funk – and that was because he did not get his own way (which, being king, he was used to getting all the time), so he went to bed and sulked.  So angry and sullen was he that he turned up his royal nose at both lunch and supper, which set off alarm bells for his lovely wife, Queen Jezebel, as she was putting on her evening make up.  She poked around their living quarters looking for him and found him that stifling hot evening – reclined and pouting.
         But let’s take a step back first and set all this fussing and tantrum throwing in context.  You see, King Ahab ruled over the northern kingdom of Israel from about 874-853 BCE, and he was the worst of all the kings of God’s chosen people.  It says so – right in the Bible:  “Ahab did more to provoke the anger of the LORD the God of Israel, than had all the kings of Israel who were before him."
         And it did not help his reputation much to marry Jezebel.  She was a Canaanite woman – a pagan foreigner who brought to the marriage her own religion, which consisted of a bunch of prophets and the god, Baal. 
Jezebel was bold, wily, and very, very nasty – not hesitating to take matters into her own hands when she felt the situation demanded it.  In short, Jezebel wore the pants in that particular royal family. 
         Biblical scholar and United Church of Christ pastor Karl Allen Kuhn calls the two of them "the most degenerative royal couple," referring to "Ahab's impotence and self-consumed narcissism and Jezebel's vicious guile." Perhaps separately, neither one could have accomplished the atrocity that lies at the center of today’s story, but together they represented unbridled power and so were capable of uncontrolled evil. 
         It all began because Ahab could not get what he wanted – and what he wanted was Naboth’s vineyard.  Now, you would think that a king would have all the land he needed, but when Ahab looked out of his bedroom window and day after day saw row upon trellised row of luscious grapes growing in a particularly fertile field that did not belong to him, his eyes flashed with envy, and his heart burned with greed.
         And so he went to Naboth, a commoner and the vineyard owner, and attempted to negotiate with him.  "Give me your vineyard, so that I may have it for a vegetable garden, because it is near my house; I will give you a better vineyard for it; or, if it seems good to you, I will give you its value in money." Not a bad deal, and on the surface, it looked as if Ahab was offering a win/win situation. 
         However, Naboth was one of those royal subjects who still believed in the laws of Yahweh, the God of Israel, and so his religious beliefs became the crux of the problem because it was on that basis that Naboth refused to turn over the vineyard to King Ahab. 
         You see, land had a value and importance in those days that is unfamiliar to us in modern times.  As Lutheran scholar Roger Nam wrote, “Land was rarely bought and sold, and when it was done, it was only done to people within the kin….Land was a gift from God, a symbol of provision and conquest. In a time with limited mechanisms to store wealth, land was the income, resource, home, bank account and retirement plan of the people. Through the land, people grew their food, paid their obligations to the royal house, sheltered their children, and assured some degree of livelihood for their progeny.” 
No,” Naboth said, “This land is my piece of God's promise and it is the life of my family. The rules of our culture require that land can only be passed within families, from father to son in each generation. The LORD forbid that I should break that rule, and treat this land -- this vineyard -- as a bartering tool for wealth, rather than as a blessing from God." (Rachel Hackenburg)
         Even as king, Ahab could not legitimately take the land from Naboth under those circumstances, and so, as UCC pastor Rachel Hackenburg writes, “Ahab returns to his palace, stares out the window at the tantalizingly unavailable vineyard, and resumes his pout. Because what good is being king if you cannot get what you want when you want it? What good is money if you cannot buy quick-and-easy happiness? What good is power if you cannot use it to persuade and convince and lobby your way into getting the rules changed just for you?”
         In a nutshell, that is why the king was sulking, and that is where the ruthless Jezebel comes in.  “Buck up.  You’re the king,” she says – and, unhesitating, proceeds to trump up a smear campaign that is sure to bring Naboth down.  
         It begins with some letters to the editor outlining all the reasons why the religious elders and town selectmen should turn against Naboth.  It continues with a classic set up around the dinner table when two scoundrels testify openly against Naboth.  It all morphs into a quick and dirty kangaroo court that concludes with Naboth being taken into the marketplace and stoned to death. 
         “There,” says Jezebel, wiping her hands on her brocaded robe and, in a sense, washing them of the matter as another Biblical character will do on a balcony in Jerusalem in a future year.  “Now you have your vineyard.”
         However, as with all good Biblical stories, this one does not end on such a petty and grossly unjust human note.  God, perhaps strangely absent through all this, chooses now to step in – and does so through the prophet Elijah.
         Now, a king like Ahab had a bunch of prophets advising him.  Later we will find out that he had a good 400 Baal-worshipping ones that Jezebel brought in from Canaan.  They all realized, however, what side their bread was buttered on and so told Ahab only what he wanted to hear. It was only Elijah who spoke the truth of God’s passion for justice to this petty King of Israel.
         One can certainly imagine that King Ahab and the prophet Elijah never got along.  In fact, Ahab was quite surprised to see Elijah after a three-year hiatus during which Elijah had minded his own business – and not the king’s.  But Elijah spoke now as God has told him to do – and the words were not pretty. 
         “You shall say to him, "Thus says the Lord: Have you killed, and also taken possession?" You shall say to him, "Thus says the Lord: In the place where dogs licked up the blood of Naboth, dogs will also lick up your blood." 


         This is not a story for the faint of heart or delicate of stomach!  For so it would come to pass – for both Ahab and Jezebel.  Dogs did finally eat Jezebel’s body after a vicious and bloody death (she was thrown off a high castle wall by a couple of eunuchs), leaving only the bones of her skull, her feet, and her hands. 
         And Ahab?  Well, he died a soldier – interestingly enough, a noble death.  But it is said that his chariot was so filled with blood that it had to be washed out in the river where the prostitutes bathed, and when it was, dogs came and licked up the blood, just as Elijah had foretold. 
         Perhaps in giving Ahab a good death though, God reminds us that even at our worst, the Holy One still is merciful and, in the end, forgives.  Surely that is one lesson we can take from this story.
         However, ultimately, this is a tale about power – about the misuse of human power and the ultimately victorious power of God.  And because it is a story about power, it is also a story about justice – because power and justice are intimately intertwined – and because justice lies at the heart of God’s dream for the world.
         This is also a story for us, and in many ways, about us.  It is a story that challenges us because we live in a culture where there are startling similarities to that of Ahab and Jezebel.  We live in a culture where the rich and powerful still take away from the poor the little that they have.  It happens in our own nation, and it happens between nations.  It is a story with three more lessons for us.
         As United Church of Christ pastor Kate Huey wrote, “We often try to forget what we may be dimly aware of, just as Ahab tried to forget what he knew quite well, that if we stand by and let others do things that benefit us, we are participating in the wrongdoing all the same.
         We may wish it weren't true, but the story of Ahab reinforces that liberation theology teaching about God's preferential option for the poor. We may not have the power of kings and queens, but we do have some power, and with it comes the responsibility to use it for good and not for our own selfish ends, individually or collectively.” 


         That is the first of the three additional lessons we can glean from this story:  When it comes to how we treat the poor and marginalized among us, our actions – even our individual actions - have consequences.  The choices we make every day matter to God because each time we are choosing whether or not we will be just.  We have a responsibility to the poor and marginalized, to the ones like Naboth who get bullied and trampled upon by the power brokers in our world.       
         The next lesson has to do with the role of God’s power in our lives.  What good is God’s power if we refuse to let it flow through us, we who are the hands and feet of Jesus? What good is God’s power if we do not acknowledge and affirm the Holy Spirit swirling about this place, urging us to speak out and stand up – to be anything but silent - for the ones like Naboth?   What good is God’s power if it does not move us to work for justice and healing in a world filled with Naboth’s?
         Ahab was a weak king, and Jezebel was a nasty woman.  Together they were a ruthless pair and stirred up a lot of evil doing.  And yet, in the end, God prevailed – and surely that is the final lesson this story teaches us – and perhaps the most important one of all. 
         In spite of the blood and gore, in spite of the bullying and pushing around of the little guy, in spite of the might that seemed to prevail and the right that appeared to falter, this story is a hopeful one because when all was said and done, God prevailed.  What a glorious fact to carry with us as we leave this place of worship.  For surely that fact means that our work for justice, for healing, for transformation, our work of ministry in the name of Jesus will, in the end, not be in vain.
by Rev. Nancy Foran, Raymond Village Community Church (U.C.C.)
                  

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