What stopped us in our tracks was the fact that, when the time came to crown the king and present him to his people, Saul was no where to be found. Where was this man who was head and shoulders taller than all the men in Israel? Where was this man known for his bravery and confidence?
No one knew. No one could seek him out, no matter where or how long they looked. As a matter of fact, the people had to pray the Lord to reveal his whereabouts, asking, "Is there a man still to come?"
No, the Lord must have chuckled to himself, your earthly king was there indeed, the king for whom you begged and pleaded and dug in your heels, the king for whom you rejected me, the King of kings and Lord of lords, who saved you from the hands of the Egyptians and gave you this land as an inheritance.
"Behold, he has hidden himself among the baggage," or luggage of those people who traveled miles upon miles to see their new king, their new salvation, frozen in fear behind the Samsonites.
The kids couldn't help but giggle as we read of the big strong man hiding himself from the people he was chosen by God to lead.
But my giggle was strangled in my throat because I could see myself in this man, head and shoulders above the crowd. Not that I am tall because I am not that, I'm very average all around, but I have hidden myself among the baggage, among my own baggage, many more times than I care to count, when ordained by my Lord to stand before a crowd of [one or more] people.
I have hidden behind my children, talking superficially about what they like to do, what they like to read, what they like to eat.
I have hidden behind my home school, chatting it up so much that one might think I should charge tuition for our extensive survey of academia.
I have hidden behind my friends, following their lead and keeping within their topics.
I have hidden behind a pasty smile.
How about you?
And I have felt the fear of being seen and rejected for the blemishes revealed in an authentic sighting. I know we all have our quirks, our eccentricities, our ticks. In my friends they are the jewel that make them dear to me, and I pray my blemishes adorn me thus in their eyes. But, no matter how tightly I cling to my identity in Christ, knowing he made me the weirdo that I am, I have felt insecure in my oddities, fearing they would deny me a friend or create me an enemy.
And so, I feel empathy for Saul because in order to fear the pain of rejection enough to hide oneself in a pile of dusty baggage, one must intimately know the suffering of rejection. I do. I have been left out. I have been penned in. I have been denied, forgotten, slighted and brushed off. I only wonder at the rejection Saul felt before his coronation day. I am sure it was as common as mine.
But poor Saul never knew the Lord who suffered more than either of us could imagine, the Lord who was rejected more dastardly than either or us could endure. And poor Saul never knew what it was to trust in a Father in Heaven who could give him feet to stand and a heart to endure so that he might come out from the baggage bearing a confidence than can be found in Him alone.
No, I cannot laugh at Saul.
Can you?
I can't say I laugh at Saul, but I did almost cry at the fact I'd never heard this story (WHOA?!).
ReplyDeleteAt any rate, I don't like to hide. Moving out here to ID from Cali, though, I guess we hide behind geography.
You know: fresh start and all.
Won't go into the deets, but you know them more than most.
What we need to hide behind is our shield and fortress:
Christ alone.
--JMH