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Have you ever left church & said, “Worship was really good today”? What made it good? They sang your favorite song? The words hit something you were going through? You looked around & everybody was singing, & you could barely get the words out yourself? Those can be beautiful moments. I love those moments. But when we say, “That was great worship,” what are we actually measuring? We know whether we enjoyed it. We know whether it moved us. But how do we know whether we responded faithfully to God? Is it possible to be moved by worship & still have something in our lives we shouldn’t be touching? That question is uncomfortable, especially in our church, where we love to celebrate. So what needs to change? Does taking God seriously mean we should be a little less excited? A little more reserved? After what happened in last week’s passage, you might think so. David wanted the ark in Jerusalem. There was music, excitement, & celebration. Then Uzzah died, & David was afraid to bring the ark any closer. Today, David tries again. And surprisingly, this procession is full of joy. What happened between David being afraid to come near & being eager to celebrate? That’s where we’re going this morning.

Have you ever heard someone say, “I could never believe in a God who would do that”? Maybe you’ve said it yourself. You read something in the Bible and thought, “That doesn’t sound fair. That doesn’t sound like something a loving God would do. Why would God do that?” Those can be honest questions. Some of us have asked them through tears. We have our own ideas about who God should be and what He should do. What love should look like. What forgiveness should mean. What He ought to accept. What He ought to overlook. When God doesn’t meet our expectation, we’re tempted to change who God is, to make Him into someone or something we think He should be. The 1st part of 2 Samuel 6 is an uncomfortable story. But if we want to know God, we need to hear it. When it comes to entering His presence, we need more than our assumptions. We need to know what God Himself has said.

Few things are more discouraging than facing once again, a battle you thought was finally behind you. You prayed, asked for help, and made difficult changes. God carried you, & it really seemed like the battle was over. Suddenly, you’re standing in the same valley, facing the same enemy, asking yourself, “Why am I back here?” When a familiar enemy returns like that, it can make you question everything that happened before. “Was that victory even real? Did I misunderstand what God was doing? Is my faith failing? Has God let me down?” We tend to believe that if God really gives us victory, we should never have to fight that same battle again. But is that actually the kind of victory God has promised His people? What kind of victory is it when the enemy returns, and yesterday’s breakthrough becomes today’s battle? Our passage today is remarkably honest about that. It may not answer every question about why the enemy returns. But it will show us what… that another battle does not erase God’s previous grace, and where to turn to when the enemy attacks again.

It’s natural for Christians to assume that if things are going well, we must be doing well spiritually. But what if success can tell the truth about one part of your life while hiding the truth about another? What if everything can appear to be going right around you while something is going terribly wrong within you? When life begins falling apart, consequences have a way of getting our attention. Failure forces us to ask hard questions. But success can convince us that because one area of life is flourishing, everything inside us must be healthy. When people are concerned about us, we’re more likely to examine ourselves. We rarely examine ourselves when everyone is congratulating us. That’s what makes today’s passage unsettling. Everything in David’s life looks successful. But tucked inside all that success is an enemy David has not defeated an enemy growing within his own heart. So, what do the apparent blessings in David’s life actually prove? Does visible success mean God approves of everything happening within us? Can we be winning battles everyone else sees while losing a battle no one else knows we are fighting? This passage will show us why we need more than David’s strength, courage, or success. We need a better King.

Some of the most important moments in our lives happen when we finally stop resisting what has always been true. You know the kind of moment I mean. It wasn’t that you received new information; you finally admitted what you knew was already true. For some, admitting an addiction controlling you, a relationship destroying you, a path you had chosen taking you somewhere you did not want to go, or that you’re the one who needs to apologize. The truth did not change at that moment. What changed was your posture toward the truth. You stopped defending, denying, and making excuses, and finally acknowledged what had been true all along. That’s what happens in 2 Sam 5, when God’s people finally come to the king they spent years resisting. Could we be like them when it comes to Jesus? Knowing the gospel, believing the Bible, understanding Christian doctrine, and calling Jesus King. But has knowing the truth about Him changed your posture toward Him? There’s a big difference between knowing who the King is & actually belonging to His kingdom. How do we move from knowing what God says about the King to saying, “You are my King”?

We often measure our value by our usefulness. What can I accomplish? What can I contribute? How badly am I needed? That can happen at work, in our families, in recovery, even in church. Without realizing it, we start believing that being useful is the same thing as being faithful. But are they always the same? Most of us want to feel valuable. We want to know our work matters, and that somebody important notices. Is it possible to accomplish something important while completely misunderstanding the person you claim to serve? Can you do something in Jesus’ name and still completely misunderstand Jesus? That’s where 2 Samuel 4 takes us. Two men travel all night, convinced they have solved what they believe is David’s greatest problem, & proving their usefulness to his kingdom. Apparently, it never occurs to them David might see what they’ve done very differently. The question in this story is, did these men understand what the King wanted?” Maybe more uncomfortably, what do we believe our King wants from us?

How often do you look at something another Christian did and think, “How can somebody who claims to follow Jesus act like that?” Maybe it was hypocrisy. Bitterness. Revenge. Abuse of power. Often, one of the hardest things about Christianity isn’t Jesus’ teachings. It’s Christians who act nothing like Him. We believe Jesus changes people, right? Yes! We believe He gives us new hearts, teaches us to love our enemies, forgive people who hurt us, pursue holiness, and increasingly become more like Him. So why can people who belong to a righteous King still behave so unrighteously? If I gave everyone a piece of paper and asked you to write one name down of someone like that, who would you write? But don’t get too comfortable thinking that question is only about everybody else. What about your own actions? How often do you have to ask, “How can I genuinely love Jesus and still sometimes think, speak, react, hold grudges, seek control, and treat people in ways that look nothing like Jesus?” Today’s story shows us just how deep that problem really goes. David is finally king. The right king is on the throne. But something is terribly wrong inside his kingdom. And what God shows us through this sad, violent story reveals what each of us still desperately needs from our King.

Can we trust God’s promise without trying to control it? Have you ever asked God to do something, then immediately started trying to make sure He does it your way? You pray for His will but already have a timetable in mind. You trust Him with the outcome but still feel responsible for controlling the process, you believe He will keep His promises but subconsciously demand He do it in a way that makes sense to you. And when His way begins threatening the future you imagine, trust can quickly turn into management. Most of us would never say we want to control God. It usually looks much more respectable than that. We call it planning, wisdom, responsibility, or even faith. Sometimes it is. But sometimes our plans reveal that we trust God’s promises but struggle to trust God’s process. That’s what we see in Abner. He knows God’s promise. He can explain it, quote it, & persuade other people to believe it. But he still acts as though the promise needs his power, his timing, his influence, and his management. But Chapter 3 begins by showing us that God’s promise is already moving before Abner does anything. It describes a long war between David’s and Saul’s house. David’s house is growing stronger while Saul’s kingdom is declining. Yet even as David’s house expands, the list of his wives & sons in verses 1–5 reveals not everything growing in David’s kingdom is healthy.

We usually assume the greatest threats to Christ’s kingdom come from outside the church, from unbelief, persecution, false teaching, or the values of the world. But some of the deepest damage to Christ’s kingdom happens when people inside it begins building little kingdoms of their own. I’ve seen disagreements inside a church become far more destructive than the issue that started them ever deserved. Many churches struggle with the problem of little kingdoms. Someone with lots of money and thinks he’s indispensable to the church. Someone who’s overseen something for years, like maybe missions, or music, or the building, it could be anything. But they think they own that part of the church. These little kingdoms can divide a church with strife and power. This leads to protecting territory, gathering allies, defending their reputation, and needing to win. Before long, brothers & sisters who supposedly serve the same King begin treating one another like competitors. We can sincerely love Jesus, serve His church, & know our Bibles, but still be tempted to use opportunities within His kingdom to pursue our own little kingdom. That’s what makes today’s passage so uncomfortable. Abner, Joab, and Asahel are all involved in the battle for Israel’s kingdom, but each man is also pursuing something personal. When they finally stop, brothers are dead, bitterness is deeper, & nobody is a winner. This passage forces us to ask: Are we serving Christ’s kingdom, or secretly building little kingdoms within it?

Almost every organization says, “People are our greatest priority.” Businesses say it, governments, sports teams… churches. But you usually discover the truth when caring for people begins to interfere with an organization’s success. What happens when protecting someone becomes expensive? When patience slows down the progress of the mission? When wounded people become burdens? When doing what is best for them threatens the goals, reputation, or future of the institution? That is when the slogans disappear and the real priorities become visible. Because it is possible to believe deeply in an important mission while slowly sacrificing the very people that mission was supposed to serve. It is possible to defend the right cause while treating people in ways that contradict the heart of that cause. We assume that belonging to the right side automatically means we are operating in the right way. This passage asks a painful question: What happens when the right cause is pursued w/the wrong kingdom’s methods & who pays the price?

One of the most frustrating things about following Jesus is when the wrong kingdom appears to be winning. It seems to have more people, more influence, more freedom, more power, more options. And if we’re honest, that can be confusing. We believe Jesus is King, that He reigns. His Kingdom is now, but also not yet. We look around & see how active the kingdom of darkness is. It’s loud, attractive, & powerful. The world still pressures us to follow its values, worship its idols, chase its promises, and trust its version of life. It’s easy to wonder, if God’s King is truly on the throne, why does the wrong kingdom still have so much influence? It’s the question many in Judah were asking in 2 Sam 2. David is finally king. The promise God made years earlier is finally being fulfilled. But almost immediately, another kingdom rises in opposition. Another king is installed. Another throne competes for Israel’s loyalty. The question was no longer “Will David become king?” That question has been answered. The question now is, “What happens when God’s true king reigns, but rival kingdoms still remain?” That is the world David steps into. It’s the world Christians live in today.

The New Testament is filled with powerful stories of people hearing the Gospel, believing in Jesus, and being baptized. Today we are celebrating both adults who are publicly professing their faith in Christ and children of believers who are receiving the sign of God’s covenant promises. Those may seem like two very different moments but Acts 2 and Acts 16 help us see how they belong together. Fifty days after the resurrection of Jesus, Jews from all over the known world gathered in Jerusalem to celebrate Pentecost. They came from different nations, cultures, and languages. Then the Holy Spirit filled the disciples, and they began proclaiming the mighty works of God in the languages of the people gathered there. The sound drew a massive crowd, and Peter stood up and preached the Gospel. He told them that Jesus had been crucified, raised from the dead, and exalted as both Lord and Messiah.

What happens when success comes before humility? When power comes before character? What happens when abundance comes before dependence? We tend to think God's promises will solve our problems. It sure can feel like the hardest part of receiving God's promises is waiting for them. But what if the harder task is becoming the kind of person who can receive them well? What happens when a promise arrives before we're prepared for it? Here’s another question. Is God being cruel when He delays His promises? Or punishing us when He keeps us waiting? Some of God's greatest acts of mercy come in the form of delays. God never gives His children His promises too soon. He prepares us first. Not because He expects us to “earn” His promises. We never would, and we never could. No, He loves us enough to prepare us beforehand for those promises. In this passage, David is finally standing at the edge of everything God promised him. Saul is dead. The throne is within reach. The years of waiting are almost over. The promise is now arriving. And in this song, we discover something surprising. The greatest evidence of God's grace in David's life is not that he eventually received the kingdom. It's the kind of man God made him while he was waiting for it.

Have you ever thought you understood what makes someone tick but found out you were completely wrong? You knew the important facts about them. You knew what they liked, what they believed, what they had accomplished, but you completely misread their character, you fundamentally misunderstood who they really were. You assumed they would respond to something one way, and they responded the exact opposite. You thought they would approve of something, celebrate something, reward something... and instead they were offended by it, and rejected it. The fact is, it's possible to know a lot about someone and still completely misunderstand who they are. That's true in relationships. It's even more dangerous when it's true about God. Today we find a story of someone who knows a lot about David but completely misunderstands who he is.

Pastor Keith Ledford shares with us on the book of Philemon.