A Study in Solomon
This sermon was delivered at our Evensong service on Sunday 23rd July. The Old Testament reading was 1 Kings 3:16-28; the Judgement of Solomon.
Our Old Testament story tonight is surely one of the most
famous tales in the Old Testament. The story of the Judgement of Solomon –
maybe one of the first ever detective stories – is known the world-over, by
people of faith, and people of none. It’s a story, purportedly, about the
wisdom of a king, who shows cunning – and, let’s be honest here – a great deal
of deceit to arrive at a good
judgement in a case that seems unsolvable.
Solomon is petitioned by two mothers, to arbitrate in their
heart-breaking case. Overnight, it seems, one of the women has tragically
rolled over onto her child, and smothered him. The first woman tells the king
that after accidently killing her baby, the other woman got up and swapped the
children round. She displays a larger amount of inside-knowledge than one would
expect from someone who was sleeping throughout these events. Perhaps it is simply
conjecture, but we, the listeners, are left with doubts as to the veracity of this
first woman’s tale.
The second woman, we soon find, disagrees with her
predecessor, saying that no such swap has taken place. The first woman, she
says, is a liar. And we find ourselves making our own judgement calls. Who
speaks truth? Who is lying?
We know, of course, how Solomon decides – his shocking
announcement to bring a sword, and divide the living baby in two; in the name
of fairness and equality.
It turns out, though, that Solomon, also, is prone to
deviation from the truth, as his judgement, it becomes apparent, is not meant
to be taken at face value. It is a trick, meant to shake the child’s real
mother into an explosion of compassion.
As clever as this judgement is, however, it leaves me with a
sour taste in my mouth. I wonder if you feel the same?
This Solomon may be cunning and clever, but he comes across
as devoid of the very compassion he is attempting to stir in the hearts of his
subjects. He reminds me of Benedict Cumberbatch’s Sherlock, from the BBC1
series; determined to beat his adversary no matter what, to the detriment of
any form of kindness. You can almost hear Martin Freeman shouting and pleading
for Solomon, the great detective, to show even an ounce of empathy for the
bereaved. We’re left wondering just what Solomon would have done had neither
woman defied her king, and simply accepted his judgement.
Elementary, my dear Solomon |
But, as well as disliking the methods invoked in this tale,
I am left wondering its worth.
Why is this story in our Bible? Is it simply to show us the
cleverness of the king? If so, what does this story tell us about us and our relationship with God?
It is a tale about deception and wisdom; about using our
wits to look for the truth hidden in the conversation; about not taking things
at face value.
So, let’s follow its advice. What if we try something different with this story? What if we apply
some of the very wisdom the story wishes to promote, and do not take the tale at
face value?
Let’s look at it a different way; with Christ in mind.
This story would fit quite nicely in the New Testament. It
sounds a great deal like the parables Christ told; parables about powerless
individuals petitioning powerful kings.
And so, if we look at this story in that way, we gain a new
insight. The stories Christ told about the powerless petitioning a powerful
king are stories about prayer. Could
that be what this story is about?
If we view this as a parable about prayer, can we learn
anything new from it? Can we find any hidden meanings?
The first thing that we see is that anyone can approach this king and expect to be heard. In reality,
these two women – identified as prostitutes in the text – should never have
been able to get anywhere near their king. They were not noble enough, not worthy enough, not good enough. They should have had an advocate to intercede on their
behalf. Our text tells us that their king allowed them free access – they could
approach without fear or shame.
Related to this first revelation, there is a second thing
that is striking if this is a parable about prayer: we know one of these women is lying, that she is approaching her king
with false motives, trying to deceive him and maybe even herself, BUT… her king still listens to her! She
is allowed to approach and make her case. Even though she is not right with God
– and still trying to deceive him –
she is not prevented from talking to him. No-one
is turned away.
The most remarkable thing though, to my mind, is shown in
the reaction of the true mother to the king’s judgement. In the face of a
decree from her all-powerful king, she pleads with him to change his mind. Having heard the very judgement of her Lord –
words she could well expect to be carved upon the face of time itself – she is
brave enough to stand up against that proclamation and beg for compassion
instead of fairness; for grace and mercy to win over judgement and justice. And she is successful.
In choosing to
interact with her maker, she changes the mind of God.
That’s mind-blowing, isn’t it? But it does have Biblical
precedent. In Genesis, we see Abraham bargaining over the future of the city of Sodom, bartering God down from needing to find fifty righteous citizens, down
to a mere ten (unfortunately, as we know, the text tells us not even that many
were found). Moses too, in the book of Exodus, successfully pleaded with God to spare the Israelites after they had grown weary of waiting for God, and built a
golden calf to worship instead. And Christ himself tells the parable of the persistent widow, who changes the mind of a stubborn judge in a story we
commonly interpret to be an exhortation to perseverance in prayer.
If, then, this story about Solomon and the two women is
indeed a tale about prayer, it gives us much to think about, and an even
greater reason to pray. We are guaranteed that we are all free to approach, no
matter the motivations of our hearts; and we are to be assured in the knowledge
that our interaction with God will not just change us and those we love, but have a real impact on the almighty
change-creator himself. And that’s not a bad thing to uncover in one of the
earliest detective stories ever told; a truth about prayer found hidden in a
story where everyone seems to be hiding something.
Amen
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