A Sermon by the Rev. Dr. Rhonda Abbott Blevins
Senior Pastor, Chapel by the Sea, Clearwater Beach FL

Read the Lectionary Texts

Thanks be to God for the word of the Lord! For Holy Scriptures that often inspire us, that frequently challenge us, and that sometimes even make us laugh out loud, as was the case for me when I read the Old Testament lectionary text for this week.

The main character in this story is Absalom, the third son of King David. Absalom was, in the words of Frederick Buechner, “the thorn in [David’s] flesh, but he was also the apple of his eye.”  The scripture tells us that he was the best-looking man in all of Israel from his long, thick, flowing hair all the way down to his French-pedicured toes.  The scripture goes so far as to tell us that once a year, when Absalom got a haircut, the trimmings alone weighed three and a half pounds! Not only was he easy on the eyes, but he had personality too. A hottie and a charmer! Lethal combination. And lethal it proved to be.

So lethal, in fact, that Absalom murdered his oldest brother, the first-born son of King David and first in line for the throne. Though this was done to avenge the rape of his sister, Absalom had to leave town for a few years. Eventually David welcomed him back into the fold, and Absalom got busy using his beauty and charm to steal the hearts of the Israelites. He rallied the people around himself and conspired to overthrow and kill his father. He levied such a following that King David was forced to flee from Jerusalem.

Eventually David mustered his remaining troops together against his son. He explicitly told his men to spare Absalom, the thorn of his flesh, but still the apple of his eye. Absalom’s army met defeat that day in a bloody battle that left 20,000 dead.

Picture Absalom riding away from battle that day, defeated but handsome as ever.  Like Fabio riding gallantly along, his beautiful, thick, long hair flowing along behind him until—whoops! His luscious locks get snagged in an oak tree, yanking him (literally) off his ass. The mule laughs as he trots away with a much lighter load. And now we see the handsome Prince Absalom, just hanging around.

If you read further, you get the sense that Absalom hung there by his hair for quite a while . . . long enough for his enemies to ride by and notice, long enough for them to find their leader and debate his fate, long enough for them to ride back to Absalom.

In the meantime, there Absalom dangles. But one thing strikes me as odd. If there was one piece of equipment a soldier in those days would carry to the battlefield, what would it be? A sword! So the glaring question from the text today to me is, “Why didn’t Absalom take out his sword and cut himself down from that tree?”

Now we don’t know for sure, but it certainly seems like a lack of ingenuity or resourcefulness on Absalom’s part. It seems that Absalom had an absence of industriousness or creativity.

We all get stuck from time to time.

Like the time I got on the wrong ski lift. If you’re familiar with skiing, you know that slopes are ranked according to difficulty. Green slopes are the easy ones—the bunny slopes. Blue slopes are moderate. Black diamond slopes are the most difficult slopes that only the most advanced skiers should attempt. Me? I’m a great skier! So long as I stay on the bunny slopes!

When I got off of the lift that day, my friends and I realized that we had made a mistake. The only way down the mountain was the way of the black diamond. We made it half way down the mountain when we found ourselves in 6 feet of fresh powder. Have you ever tried to move in 6 feet of powder? Not easy. As we trudged through the snow, we took different paths and got separated, and suddenly I found myself alone. The path I chose was no path at all, rather, I ended up in a 30-foot snow drift, the only things I could see were trees and snow. The only thing I could hear was the wind whistling “Taps.” If you think it’s hard to move in six feet of powder, try 30! I could barely move. So I thought I’d try a different approach. I took off my skis. Mistake number two. I sunk even further into the snow. Now I really couldn’t move. I was stuck. Snow up to my chin, buzzards beginning to circle above me.

I remained there for quite a while, wondering if I might die there. And then I heard voices in the distance. Snowboarders! I started yelling, “Help!” A voice yelled back, “Are you hurt?” I answered with a hesitant, “Well, no.” The voice yelled back, “Then just walk out, dude!” Then I heard them go on their way.

I was irritated at first, thinking they should have immediately come to my aid. So I hung out in my snow bank a little longer, waiting for more voices. There were no more voices. So I did the only thing I could do and mustered every ounce of strength I could muster and inch by grueling inch I shoveled my way through the powder until I made my way out of the snow bank.

Others get stuck far worse than that! Perhaps you recall the story of Aron Ralston, the rock-climber who got his arm pinned underneath an 800-pound boulder a number of years ago. He became the stuff of legends when he saved himself after six days of hanging around a rock face in Utah. He freed himself the only way possible—by using his pocketknife to amputate his own arm.

I trudged 100 miles through 700 feet of powder. Aron Ralston cut off his own arm. Prince Absalom couldn’t even cut off his hair.

“Why didn’t Absalom take out his sword and cut himself down from that tree?”

Maybe it was vanity.

Maybe his good looks were a curse . . . maybe he was so attached to his outward appearance that to lose his luscious locks would be a fate worse than death. Maybe vanity kept him from freeing himself from the grip of that oak tree.

Vanity can kill a person, you know. People can get so wrapped up in what others think about them that they let the gifts inside them die. The painter who never paints for fear that their painting isn’t perfect. The singer who never sings for fear that their song isn’t spectacular. The poet who never puts pen to paper for fear their poem isn’t profound.

Each and every one of us is made in the image of God, the scripture tells us. To be made in the image of God means that each of us harbors the capacity to be like our Creator and create! That creative capacity has gone dormant in far too many of us, however. We “grow up” and take on utilitarian roles, and our creative capacities get crowded underneath the deadlines and demands of practical living.

Julie Gammack describes how during her years as a newspaper columnist and entrepreneur, “the artist within was hibernating.” She said that retirement has been so liberating and freeing because she’s finally let go of the what-people-think syndrome. When Julie was in fifth grade, her art teacher singled her out for a scholarship to take classes at the local art center. She went on to take private lessons and considered studying at an art institute. She eventually decided against it, however, because she was advised that “art was something to do as a hobby, not a career.” Her gift remained latent for twenty years. Like so many of us, she allowed her gift to atrophy under the pressures of family and work.  But now, in retirement, she is able to stoke the fires of the gift burning inside her. Her artwork is in high demand in a niche market.

Back to our scripture lesson. “Why didn’t Absalom take out his sword and cut himself down from that tree?” Maybe it was vanity. Maybe our handsome prince had not let go of the “what-people-think” syndrome. Maybe his vanity impeded his ability to find a creative solution to his predicament. And still we see the handsome Prince Absalom, just hanging around.

I know some folks who are just hanging around. I know a quilt maker who hasn’t sewn a stitch in nearly 25 years. I know a poet who hasn’t written a verse in nearly 20 years. I know a woodworker who hasn’t turned a piece of cedar in nearly ten years. I know a songwriter who hasn’t written a song in nearly five years. Life has a way of crowding out our creative capacities underneath the deadlines and demands of practical living. However, the moments when we are most creative are the moments when we’re most living into our true nature as children born in the image of God.

I know some folks who are just hanging around, but I also know lots of folks who are taking out their swords and freeing themselves from the grip of death. I know lots of folks who are discovering that retirement, for instance, can open up doors of discovery, adventure, and creativity if one is willing to take a risk. I know a retiree who’s learning to play the guitar. I know another who’s recently written her first song. I know yet another who’s learning how to compost, using that skill to enhance her beautiful garden. I know someone who’s finally able to participate in theatre.

Some of you have the opportunity to explore the divine creative spark inside you like you’ve never had before! Seize this opportunity. Some of you, like me, are still faced with the demands of a career or still responsible for the care of some other soul. And for you, especially, I challenge you to let go of narrow definitions of creativity, ones that confine creativity to the realm of artists or children, because “creativity is so much more than art making. It’s a tool for navigating through everyday experiences to find the sacred in each God-given moment. Creativity does not die; it simply waits to be unearthed and set free.”

Poor Prince Absalom never figured out how to get down from that tree. Maybe it was vanity. Maybe his vanity snuffed out any glimmer of creativity and industriousness that could have helped him escape his predicament. He saw “hanging around” as his only option, and that mistake led to his death. His enemies came back to that big oak tree. Absalom was easy prey. He died hanging there from that tree. But I think his spirit died long before that. He died the very moment he allowed vanity to kill his creativity. Poor Prince Absalom.

But not us! You won’t catch us just hanging around because we know that being like the Creator means that we are born to create! May each and every one of us find the courage to look and listen deeply, to find the divine creative spark within and release it into a world desperate for something authentic and fresh.  Amen.