Imagine for a moment that you are King Saul, and that you (and all of your troops) are deeply, deliciously asleep. Actually, probably half of you right now are thinking, oh yeah, I'd love some deep delicious sleep, and the other half are probably thinking, I'd love it if my children or students or colleagues would fall into a deep delicious sleep! Ah .... but back to Saul--or you, as Saul. You’ve placed your spear and your water jug carefully beside you. Off to dreamland.

But what you don't know is that also beside you stand two wide-awake people, one of whom wants to pin you to the ground with your own spear, and the other one of whom has the power to say, "Do it." You'll never know what hit you.  

In our first reading today, Abishai is ready to kill Saul, but David says it would be wrong to harm the Lord’s anointed. I get the struggle. Tensions in Israel are high, lives on the line, the country at stake, the leadership and future uncertain. Wait … am I talking about Israel, or about us? And look: Everyone’s asleep, and there's a spear, just begging to be picked up. It seems to me right now especially during this pandemic that we're all somewhat ready to pick up a spear and pin our enemies to the ground. Today’s version of a spear might be something obvious, like a gun, or a bomb. Or today’s spear might be more subtle, like a piece of legislation. Today’s spear might even be an anonymous letter. An angry word. A trashcan full of single-use plastic containers, not-yet-spoiled food, and clothes that we're just tired of, all headed for the dump.

It's understandable to want to be Abishai. And easy to pick up the spear. But we can also be David. That pause for conversation is a gift; it only takes place because everyone’s asleep--and as the text says, that deep sleep is the work of the Lord. This conversation is in that liminal space, neither here nor there, in which decisions are made and carried out, and lives are changed. Because at some point in our lives, we're all going to be Saul--broken, vulnerable, and nevertheless anointed by God. In fact, we already are: Saul’s water jug reminds me that each of us at baptism is anointed by the Holy Spirit into Christ's anointing as priest, prophet, and king. David takes both spear and water jug as a sign, and then he returns them. We, too, are gifted with God’s mercy, beloved of the Creator, and called to lives of mercy and love, water jug in hand.