A Love Story

A sermon preached with the people of St. John’s Episcopal Church in Oakland, California during Oakland Pride 2026, based on the lections from A Women’s Lectionary for the Whole Church: Year A. While I do not have the rights to reprint Women’s Lectionary translations here, the NRSVU versions of the readings assigned can be found here: 1 Samuel 17:55—18:9, Romans 1:1-8, and John 7:37–44.

For those who may not be able to see it clearly, the written caption that opens the video we’re about to see reads: “I recently reread the story of Jonathan and David in the Bible and realized the church never told me it was a love story” [video is screened]

This video from a creator named Emily Anne, came across my feed two years ago, and I have been holding onto it ever since, hoping that someday I would get the chance to share it with you. And, thanks to Tim Hart and Julie Knell, who got to choose today’s sermon topic (Jonathan and David*) as a result of their winning bid in the St. John’s fundraising auction, I finally did!

We only heard the beginning of Jonathan and David’s story in this morning’s reading from First Samuel. Later in the narrative, when it becomes clear there is no choice but for David to flee from Saul’s rage, he and Jonathan meet one last time. They kiss, and weep. And renew their covenant. And then, they part. And when David learns that Jonathan has died in battle, he tears his clothes, weeps, and sings a lament for the ages:

… Jonathan;
greatly beloved were you to me;
your love to me was wonderful,
passing the love of women.

How the mighty have fallen,
and the weapons of war perished!

This is a love story. And it is a love story between two men.

And millennia after this story was written, a young TikTok creator who grew up going to church can just … open the Bible, find Jonathan and David there, and say: There I am.

And … there She is -- the Holy Spirit of this morning’s Gospel, doing her work through these sacred texts, the way she will. The way she always has; speaking through ancient words in modern times, to and through modern people. Generation after generation.

We can and we should engage in our academic pursuits, asking good questions such as whether applying modern identities like “gay” or “queer” to Iron Age figures makes sense. We can and we should pay attention to the original context of the text — it’s an important part of what helps us engage with these stories. And. We should also, always, allow ourselves to be guided by the Holy Spirit as we read and listen and feel our way through scripture.

Jonathan “loved David as his own soul.” Jonathan “made a covenant with David because he loved him.” “Stripped off the robe that was on him and gave it to David, and his armor and even his sword, and his bow, and also his belt.”

Jonathan loves David. David loves Jonathan. And almost as soon as that love appears, something else appears alongside it: Fear.

Saul sees what is happening around David and between David and his own son —all the admiration, all the love—and is filled with fear. And, as it so often does, that fear hardens and turns to anger. And the anger catches fire and turns to violence.

Saul’s fear and anger takes aim at David first. And then, astonishingly, tragically, turn toward his own son. That is what happens when fear drives us to attempt to control love.

It has never been ours to decide where or how or to whom love flows. Because love belongs to God. Because God is love. And love has always been willing to cross the boundaries we humans construct for it.

Years after his beloved Jonathan’s death, the complicated man who is now King David asks: “Is there still anyone left of the house of Saul to whom I may show kindness for Jonathan’s sake?”

The answer is yes. Jonathan had a son named Mephibosheth, living far from Jerusalem, disabled as a child fleeing the violence of war. And so, Mephibosheth is brought before the great and powerful King David. And David says to him: “Do not be afraid.” And gives him all the land that belonged to his grandfather Saul. And he gives him a place at his table.

The story that began when the soul of Jonathan was bound to the soul of David did not end when Jonathan died. And it did not end when Mephibosheth died. And it did not end when the biblical canon was set, bound, published and republished, translated and retranslated, interpreted and reinterpreted.

The love story continued, right up to and through the moment a young singer-songwriter picked up the Bible and found something of themself there.

A story about two men who loved each other. A love whose precise definition we can never really know. A love that can faithfully and joyfully be read as romantic love. A love that frightened a king. A love that survived separation and death.

A love that is still being discovered. And still being sung.

Every one of us has a place at the table. And each one of us can find ourselves in this weird and wild love story between God and God’s people. That is what we celebrate here at St. John’s, every time we gather. The great love story. Jonathan and David’s. Ours and God’s. The love story that goes on. And on. And on.

In a Spirit-drive convergence of events, it turned out The Women’s Lectionary called for this reading from 1 Samuel on this particular Sunday anyway!