The Parish Church of St John-at-Hampstead

1 Kings 1:1-40
Would we remember Abishag the Shunamite in the English speaking world if she had not been endowed with such a splendid name? Splendid, but not, of course, wholly apt or fair. We are told explicitly that shag is what she did not. Poor King David; old and cold, his renown in battle only a little ahead of his prowess in bed, now unable to take advantage of the pleasing morsel presented to him. This loss of virility is a metaphor for his waning royal power; he’s impotent in every sense.
Poor Abishag too, what a frightful assignment for a young woman, beautiful maiden or not. Was she relieved that she ends up as just an animated hot water bottle? She seems to have retained some influence, even in quasi-widowhood, as later, a little after our reading ended, the crazed Adonijah in a final, and fatal, act of folly asks for her as his wife. Was he maddened by her beauty or hoping she still had political influence capable of restoring his position? Adonijah does not find out; the new king Solomon has him executed on the spot.
Jewish convention does not distinguish between the historical books of the Bible and the Prophets; history is a form of prophecy, commenting on and amplifying God’s relationship with his people.  History has a point; it’s not just a record of what happened (there were other annals that did that)
So we need to ask, what is the point of this apparently unedifying tale of palace intrigue around and old man’s death bed? It’s a story we might easily find in Robert Graves’ I Claudius or Saint Simon’s Memoirs and that perhaps is the first point; this plotting around a dying king or patriarch’s deathbed is not at all unique; the author of Kings was following earlier exemplars, and similar stories would follow after.
We can find number of elements in the story of David’s demise elsewhere in the Old Testament; the most obvious is the rivalry between brothers.  Cain and Abel are the first, but Jacob and Esau and Jacob’s own sons, Joseph and his brothers is most significant in the bigger story. What is striking is that while primogeniture- the right of the firstborn to the primary inheritance – is plainly the norm, it is not followed in the line of the patriarchs. Jacob is, just, younger than his twin Esau. Joseph is not quite Jacob’s youngest son, but by far the most successful. Later on the great story, David is himself a surprise choice as Samuel anoints him as future king of Israel in preference to Jesse’s elder sons.
Adonijah is King David’s eldest surviving son, and not unreasonably believed that he should succeed his ailing father. Solomon was still a boy and ninth in line not to mention his somewhat questionable legitimacy. But neither age in years or position, nor legitimacy, seem to matter when it comes to choosing who should lead Israel.
The role of none too scrupulous mothers is noticeable too: think of Rebekah hoodwinking the old and blind Isaac and Moses’ mother plotting so deftly to save her son and have him established in the palace of his would be murderer, Pharaoh. David himself owed his existence to Naomi’s cunning insinuation of her daughter in law Ruth into Boaz’ camp bed. Bathsheba in our story is not quite so devious but uses her influence and associates in the swift promotion of her son’s interest.
These stories all show is, on the one hand, a respect for ritual; sacred acts of blessing and anointing, and on the other,  a disregard for convention; Isaac blesses Jacob and even though it is by subterfuge, it is effective; the blessing sticks; Jacob blesses Ephraim despite Joseph’s protest that Manasseh is his elder son, but again it works; the tribe of Ephraim is greater than that of Manasseh (there is a great painting of this scene in the Late Rembrandt exhibition). Improbably though the choice of the young boy David may be, among the sons of Jesse, it is he whom Samuel anoints and from then on his destiny is certain, despite all its ups and downs. And as we heard, once Solomon is anointed king, the story is over, bar some shouting and singing and dancing. The respect for the ritual and its efficacy is final. Contrast this with the flouting of convention and tradition; even ordinary family values take second place in God’s great scheme for his people.
Another theme that I think we can recognise in the story of Solomon’s succession is the importance of grasping the moment and taking the initiative when opportunity presents. Adonijah choses just the wrong moment; perhaps he could have plotted too- he does ally himself with some powerful leaders- but they are not the right ones. He loses the initiative while he is feasting and the opportunity is lost when he realises. Perhaps he never really stood a chance against the resourceful and quick witted Nathan and Bathsheba. This too is a characteristic of Jacob in out manoeuvring the slow witted Esau, and of Joseph in his dealings with his brothers. David himself was always quick to seize the moment and no respecter of convention that gets in his way.
You may think all this rather un-edifying; few of the leaders chosen to lead Israel have, conventionally at least very sound credentials. The position of mothers and wives is respected in theory, but frequent abused in traditional terms; the family sets the norm, but adultery and seduction actually pay off the crucial occasions.
Clearly traditional values and social convention have their place, but it seems that there is a deeper undercurrent in the progress of history, an underlying set of values that come to surface to supplant human morality when occasion demands. And it did demand in deciding between Adonijah and Solomon. Solomon for all his youth and calculation is ultimately wise and righteous; Adonijah is drawn as impulsive and foolish not the right man for the job. It is, of course, the winners who usually get to write the history.
Once, however, God’s will is pronounced, or realised, in blessing or anointing, it is final and there is no going back.
This ambiguous attitude to convention is in part, perhaps, to explain the divine purpose which perhaps inevitably comes into conflict with merely human and terrestrial values; as men we struggle to understand, but should learn to respect our human values only for what they are; convenience, but not necessarily God’s plan. It explains too the apparent capriciousness of God, in flouting tradition to bring a manifestly better result. God is, after all- in fact, before all- creator of the natural world and the social order of his creatures. We cannot fully see his purposes but we shouldn’t assume human values are supreme, and shouldn’t be too shocked at the treatment of poor Abishag the Shunamite, and its sequel.
For what better example of this flouting of convention, than that in the life and death of Jesus? Notoriously he chose low life companions and his death could scarcely have been more ignominious and yet it is just in that death that we find redemption; there could hardly be a greater overturning of the world’s values but equally no other culmination of the story of God’s relationship with his people. Amen.