This morning, we looked at Psalm 51, David’s psalm of repentance after he was confronted (through the prophet Nathan) about his conduct (adultery with Bathsheba and his plotting to kill her husband, Uriah the Hittite, in a futile attempt to conceal his sinful behaviour.) There, we find David appealing to God’s unfailing love and great compassion as his only hope for restoration (Ps 51:1), and we see how these qualities of God are essential to us if we are to live according to God’s ways.

Psalm 51 acts as our template for how to approach God in humility and penitence when we have sinned (as we all do, Rom 3:23). David makes no attempt to justify his behaviour but admits his sin (Ps 51:3-5). He understands that God needs more than outward conformity to rules (Ps 51:16-17) and demonstrates that repentance is the only way back (see 2 Cor 7:10).

John tells us that we must confess our sins to God and can rely on God’s faithfulness to forgive. (1 John 1:9-10) David appeals to God’s unfailing love (Hebrew hesed, often translated as ‘loving kindness’) and compassion (Hebrew racham, see also Lam 3:22-23). Our hope for forgiveness is based on God’s unfailing love and compassion; it is grounded in His love and faithfulness, demonstrated by Christ on the cross. (Eph 1:7-8) Ultimately, our willingness to change and learn when challenged by God is needed, but we rely on the character of God (Neh 9:17) in every interaction. There is hope even when we sin because of who God is.

The Eucharist reminds us forcibly of God’s great love for people (John 3:16, 1 John 3:1) It helps us to see people (including ourselves) ‘not through the dirty lens of our own muddled feelings and not through the smudgy window of another’s carping criticism, but in terms of God’s word.’ (Eugene Peterson, ‘Five Smooth Stones For Pastoral Work’, P 64-65) Our sense of inadequacy and lack of self-worth are corrected as we reflect again on the fact that God loved the world enough to send His Son to die for us. Our sense of arrogance and self-sufficiency are challenged by the reminder that we are unable to save ourselves and need God’s active particiipation to be saved.

Participating in Holy Communion reminds us of the historical reality of our faith and points us to the power of God, for the cross is now empty. The resurrection means God’s daily presence is with us to help and to guide. We have hope, no matter how grim our daily reality may be. Moreover, Holy Communion instils in us a strong sense of expectation, for we do this only ‘until He comes.’ (1 Cor 11:26) We have hope that looks beyond this present darkness and beyond our mortality. This weekly act of remembrance becomes a pointer to the future and a reminder that God’s story is not over yet. Jesus is coming back; God is sovereign over all history.

1 Samuel 31 and 2 Samuel 1 both describe the death of Saul and his sons in the battle with the Philistines. The author of the book has been showing us parallel action for some time, switching between Saul and his increasing fear and sense of doom, and David. We last saw Saul with the medium at Endor, listening to Samuel’s stark declaration that defeat was staring Saul in the face; in the meantime, the narrative has switched to David’s rejection by the Philistine commanders, the Amalekite raid of Ziklag and David’s successful recovery of all he lost there by God’s help. Now, we are back in the thick of battle: a battle which sees not only Saul die, but Jonathan too and most of Saul’s other sons.

The two chapters give slightly differing accounts of Saul’s death, but the fact remains that he is no more successful in suicide than he was in killing David or his own son through his spear-throwing antics. We are reminded forcibly that life – and death – should be left in the hands of God. So-called ‘mercy killings’ (‘assisted suicide’) are very much in the news at present, but these chapters remind us that only God has the right to take life. The Amalekite who does finally kill Saul finds himself killed by David, who firmly believed that no one had the right to take the life of the Lord’s anointed. It’s surprising to find the sanctity of life so clearly taught in the midst of war (though perhaps it is there that we learn to appreciate life all the more keenly.)

We might wonder if David will feel relief at the death of Saul; after all, he has been on the run, living as a fugitive (and pretending to be a madman at times) for years now. He has been exiled from Israel, unable to see his family; he has been forced to be bodyguard for a Philistine for a time in order to survive! But David shows no joy or relief at the death of his king. Instead, he grieves for both Saul and Jonathan and for his country. He is a far cry from the scheming politician or manipulative leader we are so used to seeing. Instead, we see someone who can genuinely mourn the loss of even his enemy, and as such, we see one who is now ready to be king himself.