So…how do you sharpen your friends’ face?

That’s a silly question, but comes from a very popular scripture verse. It’s about accountability, strength and protecting power. It’s nearly impossible to have one without the other and even more difficult to keep any if you lose one. Early in Israel’s Game of Thrones, we find out that Israel subcontracted their military effectiveness to the enemy. How’s that? They gave their swords and spears to the Philistines.

No metalworker was to be found anywhere in Israelite territory because the Philistines had said, “The Hebrews must not make swords and spears.” So every Israelite had to go down to the Philistines to sharpen their plowshares, mattocks, axes, and sickles. The cost was two- thirds of a shekel for plowshares and mattocks, but one- third of a shekel for sharpening axes and for setting goads. So on the day of the battle, no swords or spears were to be found in the possession of any of the troops with Saul and Jonathan, but Saul and his son Jonathan had them [1 Sam 13:19-22; CEB].

Crazy, right? Giving your iron to the enemy you are about to fight?

And yet, we do it all the time. When I think of the high price of a dull blade and giving your power away, I immediately think of President Clinton and Lewinskygate (and, yes, the Presidency is still a game of thrones — or oak chairs). President Clinton did the one thing that made his legacy nearly irrelevant: he cheated. He cheated on his wife, his family and his country. This was salacious sexposition. Sexposition is a new term coined by TV Critic Myles McNutt who blogs at cultural-learnings.com. Sexposition is using sex to tell a story, to reveal plot points. In the Game of Thrones cable series, the creators use sex scenes to further the story along. Sex tells a story. And Lewinskygate sure did tell a story. Unfortunately, it didn’t tell the story that the President wanted to tell. But that’s the challenge, isn’t it?
How do we live a story that we are proud to tell?

The proverbs tell us: As iron sharpens iron, so friends sharpen each other’s faces [Prov 27:17; CEB].

The Hebrew text has some interesting distinctions. The word ‘sharpens’ comes form the Hebrew ‘yachad.’ even though you may not routinely use Hebrew, this is a great word to hold onto. ‘Yachad‘ is a word used for ‘community.’ The Qumran Community used the word to communicate…wait for it…wait for it…brotherhood. This proverb could be reworded to read, “As the sword sharpens sword, also a man gets up in the faces of his neighbors and forms a brotherhood.” In other words, brotherhood, the formation of community is hard work, akin to preparing for battle (see comment below). It is sword on sword, there is an opposing force that makes you better.

The point is: Community, brotherhood, is the iron that defends a man’s honor.

Honor is important. Men of God cannot afford the luxury of dull blades, nor can we subcontract the sharpening of them. That is to give power away to someone or something that will not do with it what you want.

And yet we do it all the time. How?

Take pornography.

Men seek pornography to make us feel manlier. To feel desired. To feel something. We marry our eyes to two dimensional images that appear to do those things, but in reality, they are only Philistine sword thieves that make sure we are useless in battle: in the battle of relationships, in battle of love and intimacy, in the battle of full life in Christ.

It’s not a secret sin. There is no secret.

Remember this from a couple of days ago?

Wow! Nothing is less secret than scandal. Not even if you happen to be the Secret Service. Take a moment and think about the implications here. The Secret Service wasn’t secret. What will the consequences be? What story does this tell? What’s the “sexposition?” What will we call the secret service now?

Your secrets aren’t safe [1 Sam 16:7].

Men of God have a choice, form community that gets in your face about things that are important, about things that shape and protect honor; things that add iron to the blood — OR — make anemic choices by yourself . That’s sooo boring.

In the Game of Thrones, you want to be armed with more than a dull blade…the cost is just too high.

Embrace the grace.
Tomorrow is a brand new day!

King Saul, Israel’s new thousand pound gorilla du jour, armed his soldiers to take on the Philistine hordes. The problem: the hordes were legion! The scripture describes their number like this: “Thirty thousand chariots, six thousand calvary and as many soldiers as there is sand on the seashore [1 Sam 13:5].” Saul had only brought two thousand men to the party.

Apparently, Saul was supposed to wait seven days before engaging the Philistines after, and only after, Samuel had joined his army to present an offering to the Lord.

What would you do? You have a problem, you are outnumbered, inexperienced, the clock is ticking, the results of waiting might be disastrous…and all you have to do is wait. Your life, your company, is entirely dependent on someone else’s calendar. Do you stay smart? Do what you are supposed to do?

Or make up new rules and hedge your bets?

In A Storm of Swords, the third book in the Game of Thrones series, Samwell Tarly is at the end of his rope, and what he thinks to do is to pray. His prayer goes like this:

“Old gods, hear my prayer. The Seven were my father’s gods but I said my words to you when I joined the Watch. Help us now. I fear we might be lost. We’re hungry too, and so cold. I don’t know what gods I believe in now, but . . . please, if you’re there, help us. Gilly has a little son.” That was all that he could think to say. The dusk was deepening, the leaves of the weirwood rustling softly, waving like a thousand blood-red hands. Whether Jon’s gods had heard him or not he could not say.”

There is a fearful moment of faith that upsets everyone.

Saul doesn’t.

As his soldiers begin to desert, he pushes the schedule up and leads the full sacrifice by himself. Samuel gets there just as he is finishing up. At this, his monarchy is ruined. “So I took control of myself, and offered up the entirely burned offering [1 Sam 13:12].”

Samuel responds, “You idiot!” OK, maybe he didn’t do that, but he did say, “How stupid of you to have broken the commands the Lord your God gave you? The Lord would have established your rule over Israel forever, but now your rule won’t last [vv.13-14]”

So what was the big deal? Why did Saul lose his empire for doing what Samuel was going to do anyway? Doesn’t God have a sense of humor? I thought the whole sacrifice thing pleased God.

Reality is, it wasn’t the sacrifice that concerned God. It was Saul’s ability to trust; his ability to be obedient under mortal threat. God wanted to give Saul an opportunity to be faithful. Turns out, faithfulness isn’t Saul’s spiritual gift. Like the great pop theologian Thomas Petty says, “The waiting is the hardest part.”

Instead of waiting on Samuel, Saul hedges his bets. Who knows what god he thought he was sacrificing to. Maybe, he was having an ‘I don’t believe in a God, per se, but in a force that commands the army of Israel’ moment and sacrificed to that. In 1947, C.S. Lewis said these brilliant words that I wish that I had known about before today

“. . . When [people] try to get rid of manlike, or, as they are called, ‘anthropomorphic,’ images, they merely succeed in substituting images of some other kinds. ‘I don’t believe in a personal God,’ says one, ‘but I do believe in a great spiritual force.’ What he has not noticed is that the word ‘force’ has let in all sorts of images about winds and tides and electricity and gravitation. ‘I don’t believe in a personal God,’ says another, ‘but I do believe we are all parts of one great Being which moves and works through us all’—not noticing that he has merely exchanged the image of a fatherly and royal-looking man for the image of some widely extended gas or fluid.”

Genius, right?

By hedging his bets, Saul loses favor with the God of Israel and loses the crown of Israel.

It’s about faith and Israel’s king doesn’t have it.

In the Game of Thrones, no one gets much of a chance before losing their head and head do roll when you’re the king. Early in the first book, a young ‘crow’ is beheaded for abandoning his post, but he comes with a warning: the Others are approaching the Wall. Winter is Coming.

When Ned Stark is killed, he doesn’t get so much as a word in. But that’s the way of things. The writer of Ecclesiastes talks about seasons, “there is a time to live and a time to die.” I wonder if we don’t get that seasonal change many times in life. We don’t have to wait for death to experience it. The Greek Testament is full of explosive statements that describe a transfer of life to death during life, while one is alive. Sometimes, it’s just a good thing to take stock.

Hear the last speech of Samuel in 1 Samuel 12:1-3,

“Samuel said to all Israel: “Listen: I have done everything you asked of me and have placed a king over you. The king will lead you now. I am old and gray, though my sons are still with you, and I’ve been your leader since I was young until now. So I’m here: Tell the truth about me in the presence of the LORD and his anointed. Have I ever stolen someone’s ox? Have I ever taken someone’s donkey? Have I ever oppressed or mistreated anyone? Have I ever taken bribes from someone and looked the other way about something? Tell me the truth. I will make it right.”

Samuel gives himself a small eulogy before his death. ‘Eulogy’ means, simply, ‘good words,’ and Samuel’s speech is simple…short and to the point.

If you were to speak ‘good words’ for yourself, what would they be? Take a moment and imagine what you might say about yourself if you were talking about you, like at the memorial of your life until now and you were the keynote. (Yeah, it’s odd…try it anyway).

Now…um…go and listen to the Talking Heads!

Today’s story has a peculiar beginning. The Saul cycle is so quirky it’s difficult not to keep going with it, but by the time we get to the end of 1 Samuel 10 [through 11:15], there is an interesting intrusion in the narrative. Take a look:

Nahash the Ammonite king had been severely oppressing the Gadites and the Reubenites. He gouged out everyone’s right eye, thereby not allowing Israel to have a deliverer. There wasn’t a single Israelite left across the Jordan River who hadn’t had their right eye gouged out by the Ammonite king Nahash. But seven thousand people had escaped from the Ammonites’ power and fled to Jabesh-gilead.

Oh, yeah!

Gore and dismemberment.

The Ammonite King, Nahash — whose name means ‘serpent‘ by the way, was standing on the necks of two of the tribes of Israel, Gad and Rueben. When you are on top, you want to stay on top and that was Nahash’s game. The King was probably making some pretty good bank off of the sweat of his one eyed captives.

To ensure that the Israelites could not revolt successfully, he employed the oldest trick in the book: Gouge out everyone’s right eye.

He did this for several reasons. One he actually says, “That’s how I bring humiliation to all Israel.” By dismembering the Gadites and Reubenites so, he humiliated a people that could not call out for a savior from among their people to defeat him. To make extra sure of this, he took away their military mobility. No general, no battle.

Without the “sword eye,” the Hebrews could not fight at close range and of course, the right eye was the “scope” for their archers. In one humiliating act, Nahash managed to convince a people that they were helpless.

It seems like we feel like this on a daily basis, don’t we? We feel like someone has taken our right eye, that one thing we need to overcome whatever situation it is that we are in. We are always one right eye away from success. Regardless of what it is that’s in danger, we feel powerless to overcome it.

The key is to remember this: There’s always a deliverer!

When Nahash catches up to the 7,000, they are hold up in the walled in city of Jabesh-gilead. As Nahash lays seize to the city, he says, “Hey guys, all this unpleasantness can be over if you just let me rip out your right eye.” But they don’t agree to his sweet sounding offer and instead try and renegotiate the terms.

“We are going to seek out someone who can save us. If we find them, that’ll suck for you. If not, well then, you can have our eyes.” How does it end? The serpent is defeated again.

This Sunday is Palm Sunday.

It means you are not without your right eye.
It means you are not helpless.
Because…A Savior is on the way!

Two days late, this post has been hard to write. For one, lots of life going on. Lot’s of things happening, wonderful things. Things that take time away from blogging. Oh, the humanity.

In the Game of Thrones, whether in the series or the Bible, we often wait a long time for someone to embrace their authority. Whether a prophet or a king, there is a high calling that deserves the utmost courage and confidence in the one who has called you, namely God.

Samuel tells Saul, “You will rule the Lord’s people and save them from the power of the enemies who surround them [1 Sam 10:1].” Gulp. That’s a pretty tall order for a dude who five minutes ago was just looking for some lost donkeys. And yet, his future is set. He has been given responsibility and what is more, authority.

Many men I know, this one included, struggle with our calling. Regardless of where you are, what you devote your life and time to is a Holy Calling. If you are a photographer, your are called to capture the majesty of creation and the mystery of time through your camera lens. If you are a teacher, you are called to shape minds, giving young men and women the permission to think and the audacity to create something better than they know. If you are a trash collector, you are called to protect the health and welfare of the city on the front line.

Sometimes this can feel like a burden. Perhaps a burden we don’t want, or feel particularly qualified for. But still, the call is to embrace your authority. Because if you don’t shape young minds, someone else will warp them. You have been given the authority to define the future, today.

Up to this point in the story, Saul seems rather clueless about the whole God is God of Israel piece. Undeterred by insignificant details, God deals with this in a very interesting way. In 1 Samuel 10:9, we read, “And just as Saul turned to leave Samuels’s side, God gave him a different heart, and all these [promised signs] happened that very same day.”

Ah, there it is. If Saul is going to embrace his authority and lead the nation of God’s people, he is going to need the heart that God gave him. The Hebrew is very specific. God gave Saul a completely different heart. Another one. I have often prayed for that kind of change, that God would take my heart and gives me another one; one like his.

Sometimes it seems my real hope is a new heart. My heart is easily affected by criticism. Often, I lack confidence in my self, my abilities, my call. I worry that people will find out I’m not ready, I’m not qualified, that I’m a bit of a fraud. My heart takes too much upkeep.

But you know what? A new heart didn’t save Saul. He ignored the one God gave him in the same way that he had his own. God didn’t put magic in that heart, I think he put all the stuff of life in it: joy and sorrow, pain and pleasure, desire and want, toil and rest, the whole of it. It eventually drove him mad. Saul couldn’t handle the complexities of real life: the life you and I live every day.

So, how do you live each day with the full complexity of life and not go mad? Martinis! No, well, actually, yes, but no (that’s another post). A full life in Christ. In his letter to the Romans, Paul writes, “We even take pride in our problems, because we know that trouble produces endurance, endurance produces character, character produces hope. This hope doesn’t put us to shame, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us [Rom 5:4-5].”

Challenge can produce two kinds of response: fight or flight.

Fight produces hope, eventually.

Saul’s choice was flight.

“Next Samuel brought the tribe of Benjamin forward by its families, and the family of Matri was selected. Samuel then brought the family of Matri forward, person by person, and Saul, Kish’s son, was selected. But when they looked for him, he wasn’t to be found. So they asked another question of the LORD: “Has the man come here yet?” The LORD said, “Yes, he’s hiding among the supplies.” They ran and retrieved Saul from there, and when he stood up in the middle of the people, he was head and shoulders taller than anyone else. “Can you see the one the LORD has chosen?” Samuel asked all the people. “He has no equal among the people.” Then the people shouted, “Long live the king!” 1 Samuel 10:21-24

The Game of Thrones always presents a choice in life.

<<by way of reminder, the purpose of this series which appears on this blog every Monday is to provide a weekly men’s devotional focusing on the cycle of Kings in the OT and the coolness which is The Game of Thrones.>>

One of the problems of monarchy, is what to do with all those spare children?

The character of a King leads a nation. The people of Israel figured this out really quick. Saul didn’t have the stuff from the get go, which should make us wonder why he was the first choice. His downfall, I believe, was a lack of God-centered orientation. The people wanted a king like other nations, well…they got one. After Saul, things got questionably better, but with some notable hiccups. The problem quickly became King David syndrome, or sleeping with every woman on the planet. David was good at this, but Solomon was the champion [1 Kings 11:1-3].

The earlier scribes recorded this prohibition for kings in Deuteronomy, “He must not acquire many wives for himself, or else his heart will turn away [Dt 17:17].” As if in reaction to Solomon alone. God knows the requirements of family and takes those seriously. Kings who have many wives have many children. Kings who have many concubines (i.e. NOT wives) have many more. This creates a painfully challenging hierarchical dynamic in the nursery and household.

In George R.R. Martin’s, Game of Thrones: A Song of Ice and Fire, we meet Jon Snow, the illegitimate son of Lord Eddard Stark, lord of Winterfell. Jon is plagued by his status, his is beneath his brothers and sister. In this dialogue, Martin reveals Snow’s feelings with the series’ most spectacularly drawn character, Tyrion Lannister, the Imp:

“You’re Ned Stark’s bastard aren’t you?”

Jon felt a coldness pass right through him. He pressed his lips together and said nothing.

“Did I offend you?” Lannister said. “Sorry. Dwarfs don’t have to be tactful. Generations of capering fools in motley have won me the right to dress badly and say any damn thing that comes into my head.” He grinned. “You are the bastard, though.”

“Lord Eddard Stark is my father,” Jon admitted stiffly.

Lannister studied his face. “Yes,” he said, “I can see it. You have more of the north in you than your brothers.’

“Half brothers,” Jon corrected. He was pleased by the dwarfs comment, but he tried not to show it.

“Let me give you some counsel, bastard,” Lannister said. “Never forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armor yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you.”

A Game of Thrones: A Song of Ice and Fire: Book One, George R.R. Martin

Eddard Stark, Jon’s father, is a man of steely nobility, honor and the kind of enviable integrity that will become his downfall. BUT he has a skeleton in his closet: he made a mistake. It is interesting as the story unravels, that Lady Stark forgives him and loves him deeply, but the consequence is her inability to accept his bastard son. For Jon, this is a double condemnation, for the bastard son is neither/nor, he is not accepted and not rejected. He is and he isn’t. Jon Snow names his pet dire wolf, Ghost, because that’s what he is.

An interesting theme here worth exploring is forgiveness in marriage:

I think that this troubles God deeply. One of the reasons that the Biblical tradition upholds sex within marriage is to protect children. God cares for the orphan, the fatherless (see the majority of Scripture).

Interestingly, there are few mentions of illegitimate children in Scripture and when it happens it’s not in direct reference to a character [Heb 12:8, Dt 23:2]. It’s as thought they weren’t worthy of mention, forgotten. The point of this post is to cast in your mind the reality that as we move through the lives of Kings, we also move through lives of the unwanted, the unclaimed…the fatherless.

Donald Miller, a popular author and speaker, grew up without a father. He has written his way through the issues that have stemmed from his experience and any of his books are worth the read (you can see them here). He has also created The Mentoring Project, which “is an advocacy and training organization that serves as a liaison between faith communities and matching agencies to provide mentors for fatherless youth.”

The Game of Thrones involves the unwanted, and that’s no game.

When there is a Lord who says, “but I have come that you may have life and have it to the full [Jn 10:10],” no one should have to hear these words: “Never forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armor yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you.”

**By way of reminder, I started this series, Game of Thrones, not only to pay homage to a book series that keeps me up nights, but to provide a weekly devotional for men. After trolling the internet, I can across a paltry variety of men’s devo’s that interested me. I’m still figuring this thing out and luckily, we are still pre-kindgom in the scripture. Would love feedback and don’t forget to share (below).”

One of the challenges of Manhood (probably humanhood, but I’d have to ask my wife) is our innate ability to hide. Men have a second sense about hiding. We can hide anything, the greatest thing being, however, ourselves. We fear being judged. We fear suffering by comparison. We fear…well, we fear lots of things. Even if it looks like we’re on top of our game, we are afraid of losing it.

God has provided a way to conquer these fears, but it requires some seeking (and some confrontation).

“Here,” the boy answered Saul, “I’ve got a quarter-shekel of silver. I’ll give that to the man of God so he tells us which way to go.” (Earlier in Israel, someone going to consult with God would say, “Let’s go to the seer,” because the people who are called prophets today were previously called seers.) Saul said to the boy, “Great idea! Let’s go.” So they went into the town where the man of God lived [1 Sam 9:8-10;CEB].

In Ancient Israel, God provided prophets to speak to his people. In the Northern territories, these prophets were called nabi, or seers as the Scripture says. Like Samuel, a seer looked deeply into a situation and waited for God to speak into it. In the case of these first chapters of 1 Samuel, the problem is that the people are tired of following the Divine King and instead want a human king. It was Samuel’s job to find this king, and he listened for God to speak.

Anyone whose heart was turned to God would have known about prophets. It’s interesting in the Scripture above that one man did and one man didn’t. One man needed someone to speak into the problem he was having, to help him find a solution. The other was aware that what they needed was a third party, someone who listened to God, to help them out.

We still need “seers.” We need people who listen to God. People that we can go to when it feels like our only option is to hide and smother our problems under another layer of man-ness. Sometimes, we even need someone to point these things out (you’re welcome).

If Saul had not gone to Samuel, someone who could help, someone who could see into his problem (which is laughable today because we are talking about donkeys **see last post**, after all), he would not have become king, fulfilling his destiny and the destiny of Israel. He would have been “hidden.”

Today, I encourage you to identify someone who listens and sees. Set up a time to talk to them. Give them time to hear and reflect, then listen to what they say. It’s time to stop being afriad. Right? Right. It’s not unmanly to admit that the day would go better if you didn’t do it all by yourself.

** Really excited about the release of the Game of Thrones DVD series this week!

Have you ever asked yourself, “I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t lost my father’s donkeys?”

I bet King Saul did.

Every so often something supremely inconvenient happens: a tire blows out on the freeway, the dog runs away, you lose an ATM card; something out of your control that you are forced to deal with. Something that you are required to add to your personal timeline. I hate those things.

But at the same, we all experience moments where we feel stuck, like nothing good is ever going to happen again; like the best of what could be…has already been.

In the ninth chapter of First Samuel, all the factors I’ve mentioned above come together and change history. If you’ll remember last week, I mentioned that Israel wanted to be a Jones and have a human King like all the other kids. Well, the next question is, “What’s a really good way to find a king?” That’s where Saul comes in. Saul is a Ken doll: best looking, tallest, paddle board stomach and heir to a fortune. He’s not plastic, although sometimes his character begs reconsideration. He was from the tribe of Benjamin, though, the smallest of the twelve…but that’s just a trifle. At most, we can say that God is continuing to lift up the smallest, weakest and most humble from the nation [doesn't really work here, but it will soon].

Saul’s story doesn’t begin with throwing the winning touchdown, or discovering an alien spaceship in an Antarctic mountain, or even walking an elderly lady across the street.
No, Saul’s story begins with lost donkeys.

Kish, Saul’s dad, sends his son out to look for his missing property. Along with a young servant, Saul goes off in hot pursuit. Anyone see a TV pilot here? Me neither…The pair wander for so long, Saul begins to worry about his father’s anxiety over his missing son. An interesting exchange occurs here: Saul wants to go back because his efforts have failed, but the servant speaks up and points out that there is Man of God (Samuel) nearby. He could tell them where the donkeys were. It’s not Saul, but the servant who thinks to seek God out on this one. In agreement, Saul first thinks about payment, “How should we pay this great man of God?” His pockets are empty, but again the servant speaks up and says, “I’ve got a quarter shekel of silver.” The servant is prepared. So, armed with his servant’s money and really good idea, Saul sets off toward the prophet.

Sometimes lost donkeys aren’t just lost donkeys.

That is such an important statement, I need to say it again.
Sometimes lost donkeys aren’t just lost donkeys.
Sometimes lost donkeys are God’s way of jolting you from complacency,
of unstatusing your quo.

When Samuel saw Saul approach, the Lord spoke to him saying, “That’s the man I told you about. That’s the one who will rule my people.”

Might we take away from this that it’s in confronting the difficulties of life that new opportunities appear? You might have to buy some donkeys, but changes are…you already have some.

It’s President’s Day today. When we look at a Game of Thrones, our country is not exempt. Politics and religion prismatically extent into the far reaches of culture. And of course, not all of the games are bad. Some are valiant. Abraham Lincoln (Vampire Hunter — sorry, couldn’t help myself), continues to exemplify courageous and sacrificial leadership to the world. The world that produced Lincoln and his values? That was a Game of Thrones if ever there was one. While the throne is now an oak desk in the Oval Office, the game remains.

It’s important to realize how close Israel of the Old Testament is to our nation, or any nation, today. The scriptures become anemic when we think, “that was them,” or “Oh, isn’t that pathetic how they did that back then?”

When the Hebrews arrived at Mt. Sinai, The Lord spoke, saying, “I am the Lord your God who brought you out of Egypt, out of the house of slavery. You must have no other gods before me. Do not make an idol for yourself — no form whatsoever [Ex 20:1-3; CEB].”

The options were limited: God, the Lord, or no god at all.

What this meant was that God was Lord, Savior, Protector and Commander in Chief. It was The Lord who led the people into battle and gave them victory. It was the Lord who defined national boundaries. It was the Lord who gave land to his people. It was the Lord who legislated. The chain of command reached beyond the mountain into the heavens. This made Israel stand out among nations. They were different. Their sovereignty was of divine origin. Their political system was unicameral, with no other candidates.

But…the people didn’t want to be different. They wanted a king, like other nations. First, with their adolescent demands negotiated, Israel entered into the period of the Judges. The judges were mediaries between God as King and Israel, his people. This had it’s ups and downs, but Israel still felt too close to God’s reign. So, the time of the Judges came to an end.

The people did not want to be different. They wanted a king, like other nations. They wanted to be defined by the culture that surrounded them. They wanted options. They wanted freedom.

Freedom is not a bad thing. It’s a great thing depending on how it is used. When one is emancipated from slavery or addiction, freedom is a song that billows through the rafters of heaven. But when one is emancipated from God, it’s not freedom at all. Sometimes being free, makes you anything but. Do you recognize areas of your life where you wish you had less freedom? Of course, you do.

Before, capitulating to the complaints of the Hebrews, God instructs Samuel to make sure Israel knows what having a King really means. It is a brutal and heartbreaking offer [read 1 Sam 9:10-18; cf. Dt 17:14-20]. Yet, without thought, almost impulsively, Israel accepts saying, “There must be a king over us so we can be like all the other nations. Our king will judge us and lead us and fight our battles [1 Sam 9:19-20; CEB].”

Israel accepted a counterfeit. An idol. A god other than God. A god in the form of a king.

They wanted to be like the Joneses. When they fought an army, their enemy had a king who led his troops into battle. Israel had none. They chose to become like their enemies.

Marinate in the awkwardness of that.

As we will see next week, sometimes when we get what we want, it isn’t what we wanted…at all.

Continuing on in a men’s ministry series, today we take a look at the consequences of staying out of the business of your kids. Rolling it back a few chapters, Eli’s house (1 Samuel 2) stacks up like a house full of Lannister brothers. If not Lannisters, then not one but two Viserys Targaryens.

Now Eli was very old. He heard all that his sons were doing to all Israel, and how they lay with the women who served at the entrance to the tent of meeting. He said to them, “Why do you do such things? For I hear of your evil dealings from all these people. No, my sons; it is not a good report that I hear the people of the LORD spreading abroad. If one person sins against another, someone can intercede for the sinner with the LORD; but if someone sins against the LORD, who can make intercession?” But they would not listen to the voice of their father; for it was the will of the LORD to kill them [1 Sam 2:22-25].

“Not a good report”? Um…what would a bad report be, then? It was too late to speak up anyway. Eli’s voice was a John Cage symphony on a muted iPod.

Eli is another father who forgot one small thing: to raise his sons. He was the epicenter of ethical and moral development for Israel, which I imagine he did effectively, but had a weak spot when it came to his sons. He couldn’t parent them, couldn’t discipline them. In short, aside from some slightly unpleasant words, Eli looked the other way, while his sons did things that dishonored the temple and its God.

“Now the sons of Eli were scoundrels; they had no regard for the LORD or for the duties of the priests to the people. When anyone offered sacrifice, the priest’s servant would come, while the meat was boiling, with a three-pronged fork in his hand, and he would thrust it into the pan, or kettle, or caldron, or pot; all that the fork brought up the priest would take for himself. This is what they did at Shiloh to all the Israelites who came there. Moreover, before the fat was burned, the priest’s servant would come and say to the one who was sacrificing, “Give meat for the priest to roast; for he will not accept boiled meat from you, but only raw.” And if the man said to him, “Let them burn the fat first, and then take whatever you wish,” he would say, “No, you must give it now; if not, I will take it by force [1 Sam 2:12-16].”

Recently, Joe Paterno found himself in Eli’s shoes. A legacy coach. A powerful leader in the national world of academic sports. He was focused, famous, and successful. However, when it came time to exercise his power and authority with those closest to him…he didn’t. Perhaps he couldn’t. Perhaps he didn’t think it had anything to do with him. It wasn’t his business. It was.

Closer to home, the Miramonte school scandal has caused irreparable damage to children, families, a community, a city.

When Samuel receives his call to be the judge of Israel [1 Sam 3:2], Eli is snoozing at work. He’s asleep on the job. We can read this as “not with his family.” Some of us work long hours, that’s just how things are. Eli didn’t do anything wrong by working. His failure was forgetting to raise his sons at the same time. He remembered how to do his job, lead the worship life of Israel at Shiloh, but forgot the primary instruction: “Train children in the way they should go; when they grow old, they won’t depart from it [Pro 22:6 CEB].” Perhaps he didn’t think that their business was his business. He was wrong.

Eli reminds us to take a look at how we are shaping our children.

The Lord cares how you respond to these questions. So…how do you?