Sunday, August 19, 2012

"Solomon: The Real Story" (1 Kings 3:1-14)


In high school, I had a friend named Brett.  He didn’t start out as my friend, but he did sit next to me in Mr. Sullivan’s chemistry class, and we worked on one or two group projects together. 
Even so, I resisted being friends with him.  He was, after all, a star on the varsity football team, and was very popular, and that was two strikes against him as far as I was concerned. 
Maybe it was the westerns my dad like to watch, where the good guys always wore white hats and the bad guys always wore black, but I had this idea that people were either good or they were bad.  There was no middle ground.  And stars on the football team, and kids that were popular, were – in my mind – arrogant. Stuck up.  Full of themselves.  And therefore they went around wearing black hats, even if I was the only one who could see it.
But then, as I got to know Brett, something very strange happened:  I realized that he was actually a nice guy.  And then one day he invited me to attend his Eagle Scout court of honor.  He was a scout, just like me!  And then I couldn’t decide whether the hat he wore was black or white; I couldn’t decide whether he was a good guy or a bad guy.
In college, I took a class called “Images of Native Americans,” in which we explored and discussed how Native Americans have been portrayed in popular media.  The instructor for the course was Paul Apodaca, a new professor at Chapman University, curator at the Bowers Museum, and a Native American whose hair went halfway down his back.
In one of the first sessions, he said to us, “there is no such thing as a “good Indian” or a “bad Indian.” I wasn’t sure what he meant at first, until he talked about how, in movies, certain Indian tribes were always good, while others were portrayed as ruthless savages. 
Which, of course, is exactly what I and my classmates had always thought.  Again, those western movies were at least partly to blame.  Some Indian tribes were good and friendly and peace-loving, while others were bad and hostile and bent on making war. 
At least, that’s the image that we all had been raised on.
Professor Apodaca spent much of the semester correcting this stereotype with which we had been raised:  there are good and bad in every tribe, just like in every other culture, he said; you can’t just label an entire group as good or bad.  And even within an individual there can be both good and bad. 
This is a lesson that has stuck with me ever since. 
And so it was with great interest that I read a lengthy article recently by biblical scholar Daniel Hays discussing King Solomon, and whether or not he was a good guy or a bad guy.
The story of King Solomon is told in the first eleven chapters of 1 Kings; however, the strange thing about this story is that, for ten chapters, the author of that book presents Solomon as a good man and a great king, but then in chapter 11 seems to turn against Solomon and describe him as corrupt, idolatrous, and bad
If you’ve read 1 Kings, then you know what I’m talking about.  Solomon is anointed king.  Solomon asks for – and receives from God – wisdom.  Solomon demonstrates his wisdom when deciding a case between two prostitutes who each claim that a certain baby is theirs. 
For ten chapters, Solomon is praised, with his growing wealth appearing as a sign of God’s favor.  And then, in chapter 11: BAM!  Someone switches the white hat for a black one.  Solomon does evil, God gets angry, the kingdom is taken away from him, and he dies.
That’s the impression most people get from 1 Kings, but Daniel Hayes says, “not so fast.”  He says that, in the first ten chapters, the narrator of 1 Kings “may be openly and overtly praising Solomon on the surface, but he does not tell the story with a straight face, and if we look closely, we see him winking at us.”
It’s like the narrator is giving us a tour, and he has the official biography, the official script of what he is supposed to say, but his own feelings are quite different, and – very subtly – he drops hints as to what he believes is the true story of King Solomon.
Chapter 3 begins with a mention of Solomon making an alliance with Pharaoh by marrying Pharaoh’s daughter.  This is just a straightforward piece of information, given without commentary.
But, ever since the days of Moses, “Pharaoh” was a symbol of oppression.  Back in the days when 1 Kings was written, this would not have been overlooked.  To align oneself with Pharaoh would be to align oneself with the oppressor.
In chapter 5, Solomon builds the temple.  If you grew up going to Sunday School as I did, you probably heard about how great Solomon’s temple was, and how great he was for building such a magnificent building to honor God. 
However, in the days of Solomon’s father, King David, God had said that God didn’t need a temple, and especially one made of expensive cedar.  So it’s ironic that Solomon refers back to David’s conversation with God as justification for building the temple. 
Again, this irony would not have been overlooked by ancient Jews.
In exchange for materials with which to build the temple, Solomon gives away food wealth to other nations.  Then Solomon forces labor upon thousands for the temple’s construction, in effect oppressing and enslaving people in order to carry out this grand project.  The alliance with Pharaoh the oppressor foreshadowed this.
In Jesus’ time, it was Herod who took it upon himself to rebuild the temple on the site where Solomon’s temple once stood.  This was an even grander, more elaborate project than Solomon’s.  Many Jews were in awe of the temple that was under construction.
Except Jesus.  He went to the temple, but he didn’t seem particularly awed by it.  He actually spoke of its destruction, which got some people upset, and some of his least reverent moments took place in and around the temple. 
Why did Herod build the temple?  Why did Solomon build his temple?  To bring God glory?  I think that both Jesus and the Old Testament prophets would agree that God would be more glorified if the vast resources used for temple construction were instead used to care for the poor. 
In chapter 3 of 1 Kings, God appears to Solomon; Solomon asks for wisdom, for integrity of heart, and God grants it to him.  After Solomon builds the temple, in chapter 9, God appears to Solomon a second time.  Does God say, “Thanks, Solomon, for the temple.  It’s really great.  Now I have a place to live…?” 
No.  Instead, God reminds Solomon to walk with integrity of heart.  God reminds Solomon to use the wisdom which God had gifted to him.  It’s almost as if God said, “You’ve built me a temple.  Fine.  I hope you’ve got that out of your system.  Now, let’s get back to acting with wisdom.  Let’s get back to walking with integrity of heart.”
After Solomon asks for and receives wisdom, back in chapter 3, the narrator shares a story of Solomon’s wisdom-in-action.  Or so it seems.  When those two prostitutes come to Solomon, arguing over whose baby it is, Solomon asks for a sword to be brought in, and then he commands that the sword be used to divide the baby in half, with the two prostitutes each receiving one half of the child.
Well, one of the prostitutes, filled with a mother’s compassion, begs Solomon to not harm the child, and to give him to the other woman.  This, of course, exposes her as the true mother, and Solomon then hands the baby over to her. 
That’s the official story, the one in the script, and it shows that Solomon was indeed blessed by God with wisdom.  But the original readers and hearers of this story would have wondered:  why didn’t Solomon say anything about the women’s prostitution?  The teachings of Moses, recorded in Deuteronomy, clearly forbid prostitution.  Why did the good and wise king not say anything about this violation of the law?
And what is the narrator really trying to say with a story about two prostitutes whom the king fails to chastise?  In the Old Testament, the term prostitute is more often used figuratively, symbolizing Israel’s tendency to chase after foreign gods.  Solomon had already aligned himself with Pharaoh, marrying Pharaoh’s daughter, and would soon marry many other foreign women who would in turn lead Solomon to chase after foreign gods. 
In chapter ten, the narrator appears to praise Solomon and show that God had blessed him greatly by giving him wealth in the form of horses and silver and numerous wives.  And yet, again, back in Deuteronomy, God’s rules for a king are presented, and those rules prohibit accumulating too many horses, or wealth, or wives.
According to Daniel Hayes, it’s as if the author of 1 Kings is holding a copy of Deuteronomy as he writes, and he’s very sly about presenting Solomon’s reign as directly contradicting the rules Deuteronomy presents.  He doesn’t directly say that Solomon was violating God’s laws – at least not until chapter 11 – but anyone familiar with Deuteronomy would know what he was talking about.
“Look how great Solomon was!  Look how much God blessed him!”  Wink, wink.  He was so great, that he had no need for God and God’s laws.
Now, I don’t know about you, but all this makes it very hard for me to decide whether or not Solomon is wearing a white hat or a black hat, whether he’s a good guy or a bad guy.  I mean, there is still much to commend, but at the same time it doesn’t all seem to be so, well, black and white.
If only Solomon could have been more like his father, King David, who was a good man and a great king … well, except for when he wasn’t.  I guess David is also a complex character. 
Well, at least we have Jesus, right?  Open up to the very beginning of the New Testament, to the book of Matthew, and start reading, and right away you know that Jesus is a good man.  The first thing you read is Jesus’ genealogy, his family tree, and in that genealogy we discover that Jesus is descended from, well, David.  And Solomon.  And one or two prostitutes.  And some who couldn’t even be properly considered Jews.
You know, many of the religious elite in Jesus’ time tried to classify people into good guys and bad guys, but Jesus wanted nothing to do with that.  Like my college professor, Jesus understood that such distinctions were more a construct of our minds than they were a reality. Just like the image on the screen, which is a well-known optical illusion.  The square at the top (marked ‘A’), and the square in the middle (marked ‘B’), are actually the exact same shade of grey, even though to our eyes one appears much darker than the other.
Too often we see people the same way.   Where others saw a sinner, a prostitute, a tax collector – someone with a hat that definitely appeared darker than all the others – Jesus saw a person with a painful past, a person with numerous regrets, a person who longed for healing and wholeness. 
On the pages of scripture are numerous characters, people who we tend to classify as either good or bad, people we should try to be more like and people we should try not to be like.  But really, the people in scripture, they ARE us.  We ARE Solomon.  We ARE David.  We have the same propensity to choose good or bad, to use our wisdom or ignore it, as they did.  And sometimes, we even make the same mistakes as they did.
Like them, we are a mixture.  The hats we wear are not white or black, but a shade of gray. 
And, like them, we find ourselves in need of healing and wholeness…
…the healing and wholeness that only God can provide, and which God does provide, freely, to all.

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