might not be lucky, even though i have tried

bad luck got in me, but i will survive

Last sermon from Old Testament sermon series

It was a big day. The Day, in fact.

Finally, after years of construction, the temple had been completed. Everything was assembled with careful attention to detail. All the furniture had been brought in and placed just so, with loving detail. 

The temple had finally been completed; perfect and immaculate. 

Now, there was just the installation of the Ark of the Covenant of the Lord, the symbol of God’s very blessing. Then, after that, all there was, was just the great blessing to be given over the whole affair.

Everything was finally ready; and everyone had shown up too. All the dignitaries, the elders and leaders. Judging by the crowd, it seemed like every citizen had shown up too. And everyone, from King Solomon to the poorest widow, was wearing their very best. 

Then, to top it all off, the weather was just perfect. A day a lot like today. The air was warm, with a gentle breeze. The clouds, blue sky and serene, golden sun all came out to offer their blessing on that day too; The Day. 

Solomon raises his arms to heaven, and begins his great prayer…

He had been working on it for months. The scribes of the court had all said it was his best.

Just as he began, though, he heard the sweet singing of a bird. Nothing special, only familiar and beautiful.

His throat catches, and he’s taken back. King Solomon, while everyone waits to hear the great prayer, remembers.

He remembers his father, David; how he had hoped to build the temple himself. He remembers the promise his father had been given to be the king of Israel and his children after him, if only they would walk in the ways of the Lord. He remembers his mother; and the tales of bravery about her first husband, Uriah. 

And that isn’t all Solomon remembers, either. 

He remembers the story of God coming to Father Abraham so long ago and making a promise to him of progeny and property; descendants and land to inhabit. He remembers the Exodus, that great drama of God coming and rescuing the people from Pharaoh, leading them out of the slavery of Egypt, to freedom in the promised land. 

Now, with his arms raised and everyone waiting on him, Solomon is taken by it all. Here he is, son of the king, and now king of himself, presiding over the fulfillment of it all. 

God had kept the promises; the hopes and fears of so many years, were met this very day. Finally, Abraham’s descendants had a land, and they were settled. Today was the culmination of it all, the completion. Now, as the temple was completed, the promise had been fulfilled. 

Suddenly the great prayer that he had written, extolling the glory of this great shrine, was like ash in his mouth. 

He tries to speak the first line again, only his voice catches still.

The crowd notices, and a gentle gasp seems to go out from every single person assembled. 

So Solomon gathers his breath, closes his eyes, and prays from the heart. 

What comes out of his mouth, isn’t a prayer anyone expected; much less himself. 

At this proud moment; the pinnacle of the history of his people; Solomon doesn’t praise God for the glory and majesty of this temple. Instead his prayer is a desperate one, and not a little afraid. 

All Solomon can bring himself to pray for on that great day, is only that God would hear prayer. And then, just a litany; that in all the terrible moments of a life and history, God would be faithful still. 

In fact, at one point, in the prayer, he can’t help but wonder at the folly of it all. “But will God indeed dwell on earth” he ponders aloud. “Even heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you,” he confesses. “Much less this house that I have built.”

It wasn’t a prayer anyone expected.

The temple that was supposed to symbolize God’s presence, now seems a little shabby compared to the song of the sparrow, the sun, sky and clouds; it seems puny compared to God’s mighty arm and outstretched hand. 

Solomon; who had grown up with the finest of everything, in the lap of luxury; doesn’t laud the glory of this moment. Instead, he can’t help but admit the poverty of it all, and just beg God to bless it anyhow; to continue to be the God who liberates, who makes promises, who shows um, who hears prayers even after this great moment. 

It was an honest moment from the king; and everyone was there was witness it. It was a moment to be more admired than the temple itself.

With his arms raised in the air, Solomon couldn’t help but remember it all. 

Not the exact details the artisans followed, not the headache of organizing the builders; but the history of salvation.

When God come to Abraham and Sarah and made them a promise, when their children were faithful and when they weren’t, when they were slaves in Egypt, when God showed up to Moses in that burning bush that somehow was not consumed, whey they crossed of the Red Sea, when they came into the promised land, when his father was anointed king and received the great blessing from God to be king and his children after him - if only they would walk in the ways of the Lord.

Now, here he stood, the one to benefit from it all. 

And then, then he remembers the story of his mother and father; how she had been married beforehand to the great and faithful warrior, Uriah. He remembers first hearing the rumors that his father arranged Uriah’s death. He remembers ordering the death of his elder brother himself, as he ascended the throne to become king.

At the moment King Solomon to offer the great blessing upon this day and the temple; the king feels like a pauper.

Standing there with his arms raised to heaven, he can’t help but wonder at it all: that God would show up in the first place, to Abraham or anyone for that matter; that God would make and keep promises to such a fickle people; that God would come to Moses to lead the people out of slavery; that God would suffer infidelity, and all the while stay faithful to that promise God made so long ago. 

Is it any wonder he gave the prayer he did on that great day?

…After the final benediction was given, everyone was a little out of sorts; so the event planners jumped in. 

Their faces flushed and jaws clenched. 

They pushed out the waiters, carrying all the sacrifices. There was a  great feast, and the wealth of the kingdom was put on full display. The most ostentatious display of the king’s wealth was offered to the crowd that great day… 

Truthfully, though, the honest prayer from the king gave much more to feast upon. 

While it may not be a prayer extolling the glory of the buildings we erect; it’s a prayer to sustain a person when the temple is half-empty, when there aren’t any kids in the nursery,
when you come in a fog because you still can’t believe the diagnosis, when you come totally out of sorts because the family is fighting, when you come not sure what the future will hold after that call from the office, when you come unsure what to do now that your beloved isn’t with you for the first time, when you come not sure if you believe anymore.

Solomon’s prayer, it wasn’t what anyone was expecting, but it was fitting.

Because when you stop and think about it for a moment; it’s an odd thing to do. To gather and worship, to pray to the God that cannot be contained, and yet since this God has shown up and made some promises; not be able not to pray.

Through it all, through the moments that make us proud and the ones we wish we could erase, through the moments that give us comfort and the ones that unsettle us, through the moments when God’s glory seems to be bursting forth everywhere and the one’s where all there is, is the terrible silence; God proves to be faithful through it all. 

So we gather, so we pray.

We’re not all that different from Solomon in that way.

Our prayers, they may not be glamorous or even well said; often they’re desperate and heartbroken, sometimes all they are is only the begging that God would just hear prayer. 

God has made a promise to you, though; and so now you cannot help but pray. God has shown up, God has made some promises.