It seems that we do not have what we think we have. Sometimes what seems to be ours is not ours at all. Buildings as sturdy as the Pentagon and as imposing as the World Trade Center can be destroyed in a moment of awful terror. Lives promising and beautiful are snuffed out, and there is little trace left. Businesses that yesterday were doing well are today closing their doors, with their trade suddenly evaporated. Investments that were intended to support us in the future plunge in value by astonishing amounts. What we thought we had we do not have. What we supposed was ours is diminished or wiped out.
Before September 11th, I said to a few people that it felt very good to know that the day I retire I will get a nice increase in income, thanks to the investment skills of the Baptist Annuity Board. The Board’s projections showed that my wife and I would receive more by being retired than we do from my working. That was comforting to know. But that was before September 11th; since then I’ve been afraid to check our retirement accounts! Instead I have been going to the doctor to make sure I will have the strength to keep on working for Lord only knows how long! We do not have what we thought we had. What we supposed was ours is diminished or wiped out.
Three thousand years ago, what King David thought he had he did not have. What David supposed was his was being wiped out. King David was in trouble. He was on the run, for fear of his very life. He was in danger of losing his kingdom. And, worst of all, his own son was leading the rebellion. Can you imagine it? A son, lying and conniving to get the people to follow him instead of his father. Shakespeare said it well, “How sharper than a serpent’s tooth is an ungrateful child.”
David was in trouble. And all the King of Israel could do was to run, to weep, and to pray. It was not a pretty sight. David, a king, who ought to have been clothed in fine garments and wearing a crown, is out on the road, barefoot and hiding beneath a raggedly cloak. All because his son, Absalom, was stirring up trouble and wanted to be king in his father’s place.
David was not sure, in those circumstances, whom he could trust. If you cannot trust your own son, then just who can you trust? If Absalom is rebellious, who else is rebellious? In fact, the Bible says, “Absalom stole the hearts of the people of Israel”. So David, ousted from Jerusalem, wonders who else is among the terrorists. Who else is taking sides against him? David went up to the Mount of Olives, there to pray, to weep, and to watch, and to wait.
A little beyond the summit of the Mount of Olives, David met Ziba. Ziba was the servant of a young man with the tongue-twisting name, Mephibosheth. Mephibosheth was another potential threat to David, because Mephibosheth was the grandson of the first king of Israel, Saul. Remember your history: David had some while before wrestled the Kingdom away from Saul. So Mephibosheth was a pretender to the throne. Mephibosheth might have designs on the Kingdom himself. So why is Ziba, Mephibosheth’s servant up here on this mountain at this time? David was suspicious. He didn’t know whether he could trust this man Ziba.
Now look what Ziba has with him! Bread and raisins, fruits and wine. Why? What is this all about? David asked Ziba what this food was for. Ziba’s answer was to the point: “The bread … is for the young men to eat, and the wine is for those to drink who faint in the wilderness.” Now that’s a welcome answer. David and his men needed nourishment and refreshment; bread and wine were good to have. And so when David found out that it was true that Mephibosheth was plotting against him, but this Ziba, once the servant of treachery was now turning into a servant of David’s, what did David do? How did he treat Ziba? He announced to Ziba, “All that belonged to Mephibosheth is now yours”. “All is now yours.” I am giving you everything that belongs to your master. It’s not mine, but I am giving it to you anyway. “All is now yours.” And Ziba’s response is exactly what you might expect, “I do obeisance”. “I am yours.” “I belong you now; you are my king.”
David, even while he was losing what he had, gave away what he did not own. How about that? Let me say it again. David, even while he was losing what he had, gave away what he did not own. And it bought Ziba’s loyalty. It won Ziba’s heart.
In times like these, when it seems that we cannot expect to keep what we think we have, guess what? God says, “All is now yours.” We are the recipients of grace, of grace abundant.
I
Have you ever noticed how much time and energy some people spend on lost causes? Have you ever noticed how people give themselves to things that do not really matter? How they gather resources that are doomed to disappear?
Some folks in certain southern states are still fighting the lost cause of the Confederacy. They want to show the symbol of southern rebellion from statehouses and schoolhouses, and they get very heated about heritage and history. Give me a break! I’m sorry, but that is a lost cause. Get over it. Yet somehow some folks keep pouring energy into lost causes.
I’ve seen churches that operate like that. They keep doing what they’ve always done, even when it doesn’t pay off. They speak in a language that died years ago and sing songs that no one relates to any more, and when young people leave, instead of listening, these churches just crank up the old ways another notch and support the lost cause. I read the other day about the great debate within one branch of the Russian Orthodox Church – whether to do their worship in everyday language or in something called Old Church Slavonic, which nobody anywhere understands any more. Hello!? That’s a lost cause. Who wants a church that is nothing but mysterious mumbo-jumbo?
Whole denominations get embroiled in stuff like that. Some folks, I know, get bent out of shape because we here at Takoma welcome women as deacons and ministers. Fight about that if you want, but for us that is no longer an issue. We believe that both good Scripture reading and contemporary reality dictate that we not fight a battle about that. We have chosen to deal with reality instead of investing in a lost cause.
Mephibosheth is a sad and shadowy figure in this Bible story. He is sad because he wanted to take advantage of David’s distress, but he lost everything because he just could not see reality. He could not accept that the world had changed. And so David gave away to Ziba everything Mephibosheth had accumulated; he couldn’t keep it if it was going to be invested in a lost cause.
Let us be sure today that what we are doing with our lives is real. Let us be sure that the places we spend our money and the causes to which we give our time are real and not just somebody’s vanished dreams. Let us be confident that what we gather, we gather to use for the things that make a difference, lest they be given away to others. Let us be aware that what we have we may not always have, especially if use it for failed frivolities. What we think we have we may not have at all.
II
Now if I ask myself, “Then what does matter, what does make a difference, for what am I gathering anything?” then I discover that, like David, I want to give away what I do not have anyway where it refreshes those who faint in the wilderness. If I look at my possessions, I find that they are not really my possessions, but only things that I have my hand on for a little while. I’ve looked in many a casket, and I have yet to see a checkbook or a fine car or a large house inside. Our possessions are not really ours. They are ours only to provide nourishment for those who need it and refreshment for those who faint in the wilderness.
A lot of things are like that. If I look at my knowledge, I find that it is not worth anything unless I share it with someone. There are a couple thousand books in my personal library. What for? Just to look at? Just to read for my own enjoyment? No, they are there to equip me to share knowledge. I got in touch again this past Wednesday night with just how much I love to teach; I came home and said to my wife, after Disciple class, “I absolutely love doing this. I just purely love to teach.” Well, you see, if I have managed to accumulate a little knowledge along the way, that’s fine; but it’s not mine to keep. It’s mine to share, and that’s where the joy is.
Look at the love like that. Love is not love at all unless it is expressed. Love is not something you can hide under the mattress or lock in a safe deposit box. Like David, I want to give away what I do not have and cannot keep, so that somebody might be nourished, somebody might be refreshed.
September 11th makes us re-evaluate how we use what we have and what we do. A friend of mine, a retired pastor now living in Atlanta, wrote me this week and told me that he had gone to New York as a volunteer chaplain to help counsel the families of the victims. He spent an entire week, at his own expense, working with just four families. Four! Out of maybe six thousand? Isn’t that a waste? Isn’t that lavishing too much on too few and not enough on others? But Charles said that once he began to love and to care for specific individuals, he had to invest himself fully in them, and could not spread himself out among the others. Somebody else would care for the others; but these four families were his to love, his to counsel, his to care for. He is going back this coming week to follow up with the same four families.
That helps me. That helps me know that I can either give love as an abstraction, wide-open and nebulous – you will hear people say, “Oh, I just love everybody”, but that’s meaningless. You cannot love “everybody” unless you love somebody. I can either give love as a wide-open nebulous nothing, or I can focus in on real people, with real needs, in front of me. I can do something for those who are here and now.
Ziba said to David, “The bread is for the young men to eat, and the wine is for those to drink who faint in the wilderness.” I can give away what I cannot keep to strengthen somebody else who needs it. That’s where the joy is. That’s where the fulfillment is.
Would you be surprised if I were to tell you that that is what I experience as a tithe-giver? Would it sound too hokey if I were to say that this is where my wife and I are about giving a tenth of our income through the church? First of all, our money is not ours anyway; it’s just passing through our hands for a while. And then, if we are going to invest it in something, we want it to be in something that matters. We believe that it is the Gospel that makes the difference. We believe that it is the church that God uses to empower lives. We believe that here is where refreshment comes for those who faint in the wilderness. And so we tithe. Yes, our stocks lost a quarter of their value last month; but do you know that I can already feel Kingdom dividends coming our way! Praise God for giving away what we did not have to keep anyway!
Mephibosheth, poor soul, wanted to keep and to accumulate more than what he already had. But the king gave it away to refresh those who fainted in the wilderness.
III
And when the king said to Mephibosheth’s servant, Ziba, “All is now yours”, Ziba’s response was “I obey; I follow you; I am yours, O king, I am yours.” David, in the hour of his distress, at the time of his abandonment, on that Mount of Olives found a new follower, who had experienced the grace and favor of the king. When you really see how much you have been given, you want to be a loyal follower of the king.
On another night, on that same Mount of Olives, a greater than David experienced distress. A greater than David felt deep in His heart the pain of His rebellious children. A descendant of David hurt for the heartlessness, the disloyalty, and the sin of His sons and His daughters. One awesome night, on that same Mount of Olives, one who was in the line of David knew what it was to be hurt by the faithlessness and the selfishness of all of humanity. One night, indelibly etched on our memories, on that same Mount of Olives, Jesus prayed, and asked that this cup pass from Him.
For God was about to spend the life of Jesus for us. God was about to see torn the body of Jesus, God was about to feel the anguish of precious blood spilled, and all for us. For us. Jesus was to give all that He had, for us. Not for some lost cause, nor for a huge nothing, but for us and for our salvation. God spent Jesus for our nourishment and for our refreshment. He says to us, “All is now yours.” All you need is here for you. Don’t fight for it. Don’t struggle with one another, don’t hoard, don’t grasp and clutch. It’s here for you. All is now yours. All you need He will supply. “Bread for the young men (and the women and the old, bread for all) .. bread to eat, and the wine … for those to drink who faint in the wilderness.”
Oh, Ziba, you are right. Oh, Ziba, of course; you turned from serving treachery and served instead the king, once you saw the price he paid and the gift he gave. Oh, yes, Ziba, I am with you. For no one ever cared for me like Jesus. No one ever gave His precious blood. No one ever for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, for me, for us.
Oh yes, Ziba, that’s it. “I obey”. “I am yours, my lord and my king. I thank the Lord for the bread that nourishes, daily bread that I receive every day, bread that I do not deserve. I thank God. And I thank the Lord for the wine of new life that refreshes me when I faint. I am yours, my Lord. And all that I have, since I cannot keep it anyway, is yours.
“”When I survey the wondrous Cross … Were the whole realm of nature mine, that were a present far too small. Love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all.”
