"The Kingdom of God is like unto a Hog Farm..." - 1 Samuel 8:4-20; 11:14-15

I have good friend named John who makes his living running a hog farm in Mississippi. I have become an unofficial promoter. I can’t help but gush about it to anyone who will listen. The bacon is sweet and smoky, the sausage is full of flavor with just enough spice, and the ribs are just plain out of this world. One of the reasons that John’s operation produces fabulous meat is that the hogs live fabulous lives on the farm. When animals are anxious, exhausted, or poorly fed, the meat they produce will be tougher and less flavorful. But my friend John’s hogs are happy, healthy, and well-fed, and you can taste it. 

One of the farm’s founding stories is about a group of hogs they rescued early in their venture. The hogs had been living in cramped conditions with little food for several years. John loaded them up in a trailer and drove them to the farm. When he opened the back of the trailer, the hogs stumbled out into the open sunshine and lush green grass and just…laid down. They were stunned by the fresh air and soft ground and space to move around. They did not know what to do with their freedom. 

Now I know it’s risky to compare my congregation to hogs on a farm, but bear with me. We have a lot more in common with those hogs than you might think. Throughout history, God has continually gifted us with unparalleled freedom, and we, like those hogs, don’t know what to do with it. We’ve ignored it, we’ve taken advantage of it, and in today’s Old Testament reading, we quite literally give it away. 

Since their liberation from Egypt, the Israelites have been governed solely by God, who has spoken through prophets. From Moses to Samuel, the people have trusted their spiritual leaders to faithfully pass on God’s instructions and messages of hope. When they have needed military defense, God has raised up a judge. But next in line for head prophets are Samuel’s sons, who, even Samuel admits, are corrupt and unworthy of the position. 

In a moment not unlike those hogs flopping onto the grass, the people of Israel are stumped by their predicament. They suddenly and inexplicably forget all the things that God has done for them as their sole king and leader. They are also tempted by what the neighboring peoples have: military prestige, wealth, and land, all side effects of a powerful, and human, king. 

Samuel is frustrated by the people’s demand for a king, but God gives him some perspective. This is not the first time the people have forgotten what I’ve done for them, God tells him. Remember when I brought them out of Egypt and some of them didn’t even make it to the promised land because of how quickly they turned to other gods? This is the pattern. This is what happens when the people don’t know what to do with their freedom.

But what exactly does this freedom look like? In his book, Sabbath as Resistance, Walter Bruggemann explains that the God of the Exodus is unlike any gods the Israelites had known in slavery. This God is committed to covenantal relationships rather than endless production. Therefore, Bruggemann says, the Ten Commandments that God gives the people are not a set of rules meant simply to replace the cruel directives of Pharaoh, but a code of conduct that leads to a life of freedom: freedom from anxiety, exhaustion, and unfaithful relationships; freedom to love and serve a God who loves them unconditionally.

Many of the Israelites in the wilderness had been enslaved for so long, they could not see the glory of this new freedom, or trust its author. They craved the immediate, though false, security that a dictator promises. Generations later, little had changed. The Israelites of Samuel’s day still struggled to choose the love and rest that God offered over the never-ending cycle of achievement and acquisition that consumed the world around them. They begged to be released from their freedom, and to become beholden instead to frail human power, with its weak promise of fragile and temporary prosperity. 

And how about the people of God in our day? What do we do with our freedom? Do we abide in God’s love and serve God without anxiety, exhaustion, or unfaithful relationships? I won’t speak for any of you, but I know I’m 0 for 3 on that list. I’ve spent my whole life enslaved by pressure to achieve more money, more education, more physical prowess, more professional accomplishment. I’m just like those hogs on the farm. If all of those systems magically disappeared, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. Most of the time, I don’t even recognize that there is another choice right in front of me. 

We often behave this way at the communal level as well. We have no shortage of opportunities to use our collective resources to lift up the most vulnerable in our communities. But more often than not, we limit our service to the voting booth. When our candidate wins, we feel relief that someone we trust is now in charge. We hand over our agency in doing the Lord’s work to our newly-elected leader and the systems they implement. We ignore the prophet Samuel’s warning that trickle-down discipleship does not bring about the Kingdom of God. 

One of our challenges this summer, as we work our way through the Old Testament selections of Lectionary Year B, is to imagine what our lives could be if we stopped serving masters that demand production, and started living into the freedom that God offers as the true governor of our lives. If we could trust that our worth in God’s eyes is not dependent on what we achieve, and does not require any extra anxiety or exhaustion, how would that freedom change our work week? Our evening routines? Our friendships? If we stopped depending on politicians and professional public servants to make our communities thrive, how much quicker might we see the Kingdom flourish among us? 

Eventually, as the story goes, the hogs got up off the grass and got back to the business of being hogs - rolling in mud, munching on slop, and taking care of their young. As we get up off our quarantine couches and get back to the business of being the Church in-person, I hope that each of us can find ways to claim the freedom God has bestowed on us from creation, remembering that our one, true, life-giving king and governor is always God, who delivers us from enslavement and invites us into a life of love and service to the Kingdom. Amen.