Rev. George Miller
Oct 19, 2025
1 Samuel 16:1-13
If you were asked “What is your favorite
time of the day?”, what would you say?
Mine is when the alarm goes off in the
morning, and you hit snooze.
It’s not running away or ignoring the
tasks of the day ahead, it’s being present in a liminal space where you’re not
fully up or fully asleep. You’re not
doing work, but you’re not avoiding the day.
You just “are.” Just “being,” drifting in and out before the
alarm goes again and now it’s time for your feet to touch the floor so you can
brush your teeth, feed the pets, make the coffee.
There’s something so wonderful about “the
snooze.” That pause. That slow awakening. That last bit of comfort underneath the
blanket.
“The snooze” doesn’t get a lot of
attention in our world. The focus is
more on what you’re doing, what’s getting done, what needs to be done.
Attention is often given to those who are
the most active, or loud.
But not much attention is given to those
who “just are,” who are there, who faithfully show up, smile, who show support
through their presence and non-verbals.
There are people here I have yet to really
know but always enjoy seeing.
The members of St. Lucas who come in
early, to find their favorite seat, sitting in the calm stillness before
worship starts.
Those who come in right before the bells
who take their place and are engaged the moment they sit.
So often in religious institutions, we
give attention to those who are in the front or lead the committees or cause
the most drama, but then there is the majority of folk who simply come in each
and every Sunday, or who watch online, who simply are here-
To worship God, to have a spiritual
experience, to feel a connection with Jesus, a kiss from the Holy Spirit, to
share the Good News with people around them.
It is important, and it is good to say “I
see you.” We appreciate you. We value your presence.
Your steadfastness, your calm demeanor
says so much, creating a safe, soothing experience.
You may not know it, but your presence
motivates me, becoming the electric current that allows me to do what is done
here in the Chancel.
For our more quiet, yet very faithful
members and visitors, we say “Thank you.”
Sometimes life is not about doing, or
being the loudest or being number 1, but about “being.”
Simply being right here, right now.
Not having to perform, impress, not having
to burn yourself out.
But just being; being you; being a child
of God; being a part of the St. Lucas UCC foundation.
That’s what Spirit seems to say today. Our reading is a tale about how Isreal gets
their 2nd king.
It’s not a story about the obvious, but
the surprising. It’s not about the 1st,
or 2nd, or even about the 5th, but about the one so far removed, who is the 8th.
Samuel, the son of Hannah, is directed by
God to set out to Bethlehem. Known as
“The House Of Bread”, Bethlehem was a small, rural town of little political
significance.
There was nothing grand about Bethlehem-
no great walls, or stunning architecture, it was ordinary…boring. Easy to overlook while on your way to the
Arch or Busch Stadium.
It had some ancestral importance, as Rachel,
the wife of Jacob, was buried there.
It’s also where Ruth, a foreign woman,
gives birth to her son Obed, who is the father of Jesse.
Since Ruth, of Moabite descent, most
likely looked different than the woman of Bethlehem, it’s likely that Obed and
Jesse also looked different.
God sending Samuel to this no-count town
of Bethlehem to find the next King is the 1st surprise. The 2nd is who God chooses.
Samuel goes to Jesse, Ruth’s grandson. What happens next is like a fashion show-
each son walks by Samuel and struts their stuff to see who will be “Isreal’s
Next Top Monarch.”
But it’s not the 1st born son,
Eliab, not the 2nd son Abinadab.
Nor Shammah, or the 4th son or 7th.
It’s almost like a male version of Cinderella. The sons are seen, but it turns out there is
one more person, one son who is out in the field, doing manual labor- David.
By his own father’s eyes, David is
insignificant, no consequence; just a boy in the field.
He’s ruddy, skin that’s dark from being
outside, not the tone of someone who’s inside working with numbers and words.
Because of his ancestral heritage, David
is not a pure Israelite. He is one-eight
Moabite, or 12.5 %, likely inheriting some of Ruth’s foreign features.
This is who God calls; this is who God
chooses; this is who God sees.
The 8th son, who is 1/8th
Moabite, of a working-class rural farmer, in a small-town with no political
importance, just a memory of Rachel and her tears.
And note that unlike the other 7 sons,
David is not asked to do anything- no strut, twirl, or singing for the judges.
David just is; he shows up, he is present,
he is red from standing in the sun, and God says “He’s the One.”
There is something so quaint, so beautiful
about this story. It’s not about action, performing, proving, creating chaos,
or having to be the best, do the most, being “on.”
We simply see David being present, showing
up, pleasing God.
Knowing what we know about David,
understanding how from this moment on, his life will never be the same, this is
that quiet, liminal space, the “snooze” before his world changes.
This is where the awe of it all comes from
being present, being here, being now.
That breath, that pause often becomes the
ways in which the ability to be kind, the ability to be brave, to ability to
inspire and uplift comes.
Once upon a time, God sought someone to
bring safety and security to the people.
And it wasn’t in the most obvious of
places, or the one who did the most, or required the most attention.
Instead it was the one that was simply
there, simply being, present and pure of heart.
God bless each and everyone today who comes
before God knowing you don’t have to be #1, or steal the spotlight, but just
“are.”
Great things happen when we can be still;
be still and know God.
Amen.