Cornered

Samuel had made arrangements for a special event.  It was a super picnic, with some disguise to ward off Saul who would have prohibited the event.  A king from among Jesse’s sons was to be anointed, and the barbeque would follow.  The village turned out in mass.  Things started to go wrong.  Even Samuel felt a bit confused.  He was not permitted of God to anoint any one of a string of sons presented by Jesse.  They were all cornered in the belief that only the eldest son would be chosen – if not the oldest, then the next oldest.  The line ran out.  Murmuring likely arose that Samuel was getting too old, that time to eat had long past, that the event was poorly planned creating embarrassment, and they weren’t going to get a replacement for a king – so losing public support.  It may have seemed like a joke when Samuel said: Jesse – got any more boys?  Jesse said that he did, but that he was the youngest, so taking care of the sheep while the rest of the family could attend the party.  The most important person for the installation was the only member of the family not present.  They sent for David.  If you are caring for sheep you will need a bit of time for grooming.  At last he entered the arena.  They knew before Samuel anointed him: This is he!

The cornering was in the minds of the people and their leaders.  God will choose the eldest.  God seemed to call them to meaning.  He chose the youngest.  David had the talent for it, which was not to disparage his brothers, but to anoint the best person for this position.  We must find the reasons for our decisions and they can be found either on our own, but best when others see what they are and assist in their accomplishment.  We always have limited options, so seek a way.  Lincoln said that he saw only two options for himself – either the law or ministry.  Uncertain of his faith, he chose law, after trying all sorts of limited local occupations.  He could not see himself a farmer, he failed as a store keeper, and goofed on trying to navigate the Sangamon River that would not take a boat draft.  He refused to be cornered. 

A fellow threatened me with a gun.  I talked him out of his plan, and then tried to get him to see his problem.  His only answer was: I am entitled. When I pressed the point that we must earn what we become he argued back.  He wanted what he wanted, and my counseling had not granted him that.  He would never get what he wanted, and if I were very rich I could not buy it for him.  He had cornered himself. In Scripture, Haman cornered himself with ego; David, then king, cornered himself with privilege to take Bathsheba; and the list of persons from history grows long.  Hitler cornered himself when he could have served a whole nation.  Napoleon cornered himself and lost his genius, as did Alexander many centuries earlier.  But the little corners touch us most.  I told my debaters that we would overnight in Portland, and go on to Spokane the next day.  I asked: What kind of food do you want after this grueling tournament?  I suggested they talk among themselves to celebrate.  One student said firmly: You decide, coach.  I said that the students should decide, and the college would pay the bill.  She repeated her words.  The other students kept silent, not wanting to cross the two combatants.  She fell silent and I said nothing more.  We checked in at the motel, and I told the students to meet in my unit in fifteen minutes.  All showed up except for the student who insisted it was my decision to make.  One of the students said: We know you and if you said that we were to decide that’s the way it was going to be. We want Chinese food.  The absent student did not join us, and I was told later that she stayed in and washed her hair.  (I was also told that she washed her hair when she got angry.)  The next day she was over her huff, and we ended with smiles all around.  She had made a simple matter into a cause celebre and that takes away from gaining some of the maturity needed in life.  Some of these little corners are elusive but they trap us.  Our lives are to be open and responsive, able to make decisions on what is available, and what will serve.  By the way, shortly after her graduation, marriage, and entrance into a graduate school far away, I was diagnosed with malignant melanoma, with dire outlook for my future. I received a phone call from her.  She was concerned for my welfare and effusive about my place in the formation of her life.  I later learned from her husband that she had taken baby-sitting duties so as to afford an expensive call to a cash-strapped family (mine).