Years ago the local theater company in Madison did a musical review called A, My Name is Alice. The show examined changing realities of life for women in the late 20th century, using spoofs and poignant drama, music and dance numbers. I saw it several times. One of my favorite pieces traced the life histories of two best friends, keeping in touch with each over the telephone from opposite ends of the stage. As each vignette closed and moved into the next passage of the two women's lives-from school age to teen years, career, newlyweds, dying-the verse would end with, "Call me in the morning." This refrain moved from conspiratorial whispers to barely restrained excitement to despair to confusion as the women's lives changed. But always, "Call me in the morning." That's what I heard when Jonathan swore his love to David and gave him his own clothes and weapons. "Call me in the morning."

It's the beginning of a tale of best friends, sticking up for each other through thick and thin, but if you've read ahead, you know the story ends badly. If you haven't read ahead, I don't want to give too much away, but Jonathan doesn't succeed his dad on the throne. David does, which had been God's plan even before our hero-shepherd met the giant and threw the stone. It's a dark irony that has Saul trying to kill David even before he knows the kid's a threat to his dynasty. But this is a sermon series on leadership, not royal succession or causes of mental illness, so I divert us back to fitness and leadership.

Today's story gives us three leaders to examine through the "fit to lead" lens: David, Saul, and Jonathan. David's leadership qualities make his fitness immediately recognizable by others. The crowds see a successful warrior promising greater national security, Saul puts him in charge of the army, and Jonathan sees his newest and bestest friend. King Saul is the official leader in our story, but his response to perceived threats to his leadership is less than worthy. Saul acts as if there is only so much leadership to go around, and he does what many people do when the burden of power is too much: he develops a strategy. It's the over-tired toddler fighting the nap that will restore order to the world-instead sleeping, she insists on having her way about everything, but nothing works, everything is bad. If the adult exerts control and puts her to bed, sunshine returns and tantrums stop. It's the teen run wild, acting out the hope that some grownup will take charge and set some limits. It's the manager who feels less-than-competent compensating by micro-managing. It's the alcoholic who knows the drinking is out of control, so tries to control others.

This is not to say that Saul is a toddler. This is to say that, as a leader, Saul is more concerned about his fitness for power than he is concerned about leadership. I told you last week that, when the raw recruit shepherd boy inexplicably knocks down the giant and saves the day for Israel, David showed leadership. I said that the leadership qualities David showed were that he knew what was at stake, knew whose he was, and could interpret it for others. That definition is really growing on me. I think it works for Jonathan's leadership style, too. The way the story reads, Jonathan takes one look at David and swears undying love to him, giving him the clothes off his back and his own warrior/prince tools. No wonder Saul feels threatened! How can he be head of a dynasty if his heir gives it away! But maybe what Jonathan saw in David was the leader of God's people. Not whether or not he would be the leader. Maybe Jonathan was secure knowing he was already loved by God, and what was at stake was not protecting his piece of the pie. As if God has only so many pieces. Maybe Jonathan's love for David was giving the pie-maker the opportunity to give away more pie. Maybe it was enough that God's people were led. That is what is at stake--God's plan for God's people. The act of giving his clothes and tools to David is Jonathan's interpretation of this truth, based on knowing whose he is. Leadership.

But what does this have to do with us? Everything. I told you this definition of leadership has been growing on me. It sounds like Christian vocation to me. Which is why I had to read the Ephesians passage to you as well as the David story. The whole purpose of leadership is life together. The mercy is that leadership isn't about "enough," it's about the giver of the gift. It is so easy to respond like Saul-I've gotta get mine and keep mine. Saul and David have parallel stories. Both are chosen by God to be king and anointed by Samuel. For both it is a call out of the blue. Saul responds by hiding in the luggage. Fear characterizes his entire reign. Saul is filled with fear by the responsibilities of leadership. You remember fear-the opposite of love. As Christians, love must be basis of all that we do. One of the biggest mistakes the church makes is to work against things. It's like trying to color a black hole: whatever you put next to it gets sucked into it. When we work for the love of something or someone, our work is more effective, even if it doesn't look "successful." Trying to accomplish good by starting from anger or despair is like having the gift of democracy and the privilege of voting, but voting "against" a candidate you oppose, rather than "for" a candidate you support.

As Christians wondering how to discern God's will, the good news is that we don't need to stake our grade for the quarter on the outcome of what we do. It's not about us. Remember Jonathan, knowing he didn't have to protect his piece of the pie? A basic premise of our faith is that everything comes from God. This means that God is the pie-maker, therefore, it's not about "I've got mine!" but making room for God to give away more pie. That was the lesson we learned in seven years of going on mission work camps to Juarez. If what we accomplished determined the success of our trip, if our personal worth rested on getting the dental clinic built, we were missing the point. We might get the roof on or water to the building, but other groups were coming. Maybe we'd come next year, and we could put up drywall or paint. If not, there were other jobs to work on, other people who could experience God's love in this dusty barrio, finishing the work of others. In the meantime, all we could do was the best we could under the circumstances with what we had.

That was the difference between David and Saul. They were both totally un-credentialed candidates for king when they were anointed. Saul's response was fearful ("who me?") and then self-protective ("I'd better hang on to what I've got"). David took his previous job experience as a shepherd and figured, "God doesn't waste anything." He used what he'd been given, in the place where he was. The difference was love. Saul figured he had to prove he was worth the honor of the position. That's starting from fear. David had nothing to prove. He figured his being there was about God, and he already knew that he was loved. That's the thing about being fit for leadership. If you've gotta prove you're worth it, there will always be a hole in the sock. But if you start from the premise that God already loves you, you can work with what you've been given in the place where you're put. Do the best with what you've got, where you are at. And trust God for the results.