Succession Planning [Proper 15B - I Kings 2:10-12, 3:3-14]

 The Rt. Rev. Jeremiah Williamson

I Kings 2:10-12, 3:3-14

 

Succession Planning

All Angels, Twilight Park

 

People still talk about his dad.  Star of David, City of David, Son of David.  The King David Hotel, and its five-star rating: it stands today in the center of the city the great ruler put on the map some 2900 years ago.  Tourists flock to see Michelangelo’s brilliant sculpture of his father’s nude form in Florence, Italy.  David looms large, still…and then…and always.  Solomon, his son, had a hard act to follow.

 

David overshadowed every king who ever sat on the throne, his throne, the one called, of course, the throne of David – called that no matter who was sitting on it at the time.  David’s predecessor, Saul, crumbled in his presence, became an historical footnote.  And every king who followed him, until the Babylonians paused his line in 587 BCE, were chilled by his long shadow, were measured against the memory of David’s success, his charisma, his righteousness.  And while many followed, it was Solomon who had the dubious distinction of being next, the king who immediately followed the great King David.

 

It was a lot of pressure.  And he felt it pressing down on him.  His prayer for wisdom in today’s Old Testament lesson feels more desperate than it does contrived.  It is undoubtedly a beautiful expression of humility and trust, one worthy of the admiration it has long received.  Also it is a pretty honest human reaction to a vast and overwhelming new job.  “I don’t know what I am doing!  God, help me!”

 

The truth is: David had a lot of kids; he had a number of sons before Solomon emerged.  Solomon should have never even been on the throne.  He was not next in line – not even close, actually. 

 

The identity of the true and right successor is the dominant topic in this particular part of the Bible.  David’s reign was highly successful – despite some personal shortcomings and some family drama.  And so, the nation was long anxious about the royal succession plan.  The biblical book that precedes 1 Kings, 2 Samuel, spends a lot of time on this important issue: who will succeed David? 

 

The Succession Narrative is initially set up by a prophecy from the prophet Nathan.  And in 2 Samuel, we see that prophecy play out.  David’s oldest son, the first-born, the natural successor, is killed.  And then the next up, Absalom, rebels, and despite a strong campaign, ends up tangled in a tree and also dies.  Other rebellions from outside the family gain some temporary momentum, but ultimately they also fail.  David remains on the throne. 

 

But the book of 1 Kings opens with a frail king, a David close to death.  And while he is still king, the nation is not sure he is still able.  To be sure, they hatch a strange and cringe-worthy plan: they place a beautiful, young woman in his bed.  This was not for companionship or cuddles; David still has living wives, including Bathsheba, Solomon’s mom and campaign manager.  The young woman was intended to test the old king’s, shall we say, vigor; he no longer had that and so, they concluded, that his reign was over.  And if you think that is a weird way to test a king’s ability to rule his nation, I would suggest that you are correct: it is very weird.

 

David is dying, apparently.  And so again the question is: who is next?  We see that after the death of two of his sons in 2 Samuel, David has (at least) two sons who are still living and (at least) two sons who are very interested in the family business.  The oldest of the two mentioned in 1 Kings is Adonijah; the other is Solomon. 

 

Before the lovely prayer for wisdom, in the verses the lectionary skips, we read about the fight for the throne.  There are, of course, factions, led by key members of the political inner circle – some supporting Solomon and some supporting Adonijah.  And David, on his death bed but still king, seems initially oblivious to the whole thing.  Adonijah is backed by key military leaders.  Solomon has Bathsheba, his mom, and the prophet Nathan.

 

The writers of the Bible prefer kings who don’t seem overly eager; you might remember that David was with the sheep when his number was called; he then, even after his anointing, patiently waited for God and the prophet Samuel to displace King Saul.  He, as we know, became king.  On the other hand, Absalom, who was once David’s oldest son, died trying; he was way too aggressive.  Sadly for Adonijah, he is more like his brother than his dad.  He waits for no one.  He takes the initiative, plans for his own promotion, and then moves ahead without David’s word or blessing.  He has supporters, and while his father is still alive and wearing the crown, decides that he is the logical and appropriate successor, and names himself the king of Israel.

 

Solomon, on the other hand, hangs back.  He lets others act as his agents – notably his mother and the prophet.  And they do well for him.  Rather than plan Solomon’s inauguration, they appeal to the king, David, for his blessing and appointment.  They remind David of a previous oath to seat Solomon on the throne.  We have no proof that David made the oath to which they refer – it is not mentioned in the Bible – but the strategy works.  David appoints Solomon as his successor.  The question now has an answer. Who will succeed David?  Solomon.

 

And then, not long after David’s death and some political jockeying, God shows up.  And that is where we pick up.  Today’s story happens at the high place in Gibeon.  And it happens in a dream.  God approaches Solomon with open hands, grants Solomon something of a blank check.  And with everything in the world on the menu, Solomon asks for “an understanding mind to govern your people, able to discern between good and evil.”  He asks for the wisdom to care for others and to do good. 

 

God is pleased that Solomon preferred the welfare of the people to self-promotion.  Solomon did not ask for unqualified wisdom, neither did he ask for wisdom so that other kings would be impressed with him, or so that he could dominate trivia night at the pub.  He asked for wisdom and understanding that would benefit the people under his care and protection.  At the beginning of his reign his priorities were well ordered.  And that pleased God.

 

Solomon begins his reign with good intentions; he made a good start.  That’s part of the story but not the whole story.  The biblical story of his life reveals that his wisdom does falter at times.  And ultimately, his legacy is largely ambivalent.  Even wise humans are still human. 

 

But Solomon’s later mistakes do not negate the brilliance of his youth.  Like Bob Dylan, sometimes the earliest stuff is the best.  And Solomon established his reign on the strong foundation of earnest prayer and divine wisdom.

 

And maybe that prayer was inspired by overwhelming circumstances and impossible expectations, but that’s life – and an honest petition to place in the strong hands of God.  We all live in shadows, inspired by legacies of greatness, pursued by the ghosts of the past, yoked to complex family histories.  We inherit, whether happily or not, the legacies of our predecessors.  Sometimes that is a burden; sometimes a blessing.  Often both. 

 

We live and move and have our being as the characters of a much longer story, a long and timeless saga.  We enter mid-stream and then we leave before the end.  And life goes on, as it always has.  There is something staggering and beautiful about that.  And, I think, a great freedom. 

 

Solomon built on and tore down.  He made things new and carried on old traditions.  He made wise decisions and terrible mistakes.  And then, when the time came, he handed on a story, to the next generation, that he had, long before, inherited.  We do the same.

 

The smallness of our part, I hope, incites us to push in the direction of something better.  Even though our individual stories are short, they can move the salvation story towards a happy ending.  To do that, we must take up Solomon’s prayer, to ask God for wisdom, a wisdom to know best how to care for others, and to establish a common good.  A life best lived is not oriented towards the destruction of our enemies, or the accumulation of wealth, or the consolidation of power.  Instead it is spent making God’s dreams for this world come true. 

 

Like Solomon, it is now our job, our burden and joy, to build a kingdom: the kingdom of God, a kingdom for which the Son of David, Jesus, prayed.  This kingdom work is the work we inherit from the saints; we labor in their long shadows, building the better, more loving, more just world, for which they longed.  And then one day, we hand things over to our successors, in the hopes that they will be the ones who finally see our prayers come true, the ones who finally see the promised kingdom come.