The Dangerous BeginningKings of Summer | Week Ending June 27 008

Kings of Summer | Week Ending June 27

We all love the spark. The sudden moment of clarity, the breakthrough deal, the answered prayer, the Spirit rushing upon us like Saul.

But if we get honest with each other: just because something starts well doesn’t mean it will end well. Saul goes from humble farm kid to king overnight—but it’s that very rise, that explosion of outward success, that sets the stage for his collapse.

We know this story because we’ve all lived versions of it.

The deal closes… and the next day, we’re test-driving a truck we don’t need.

A windfall hits… and our first instinct is a new toy, not a tithe.

The business turns a corner… and we start walking with a swagger instead of a limp.

Men, here’s the deal - we need to be on guard.

Success can birth pride faster than failure ever could. Saul starts with humility—“Am I not from the least tribe?”—but that humility isn’t cultivated. It’s temporary. And the evil one will even use virtue to inflate our ego if we’re not vigilant.

And let’s not miss Thursday’s reading:

Saul hides among the baggage.

Literally, runs and hides from what he knows he’s being anointed for.

Tall, chosen, Spirit-filled - he has it all, and yet he buries himself. Aquinas names this as pusillanimity, smallness of soul. Not weakness, but refusal. A sin of omission: shrinking back from what God made us capable of. It’s the same thing that happens when we play small out of fear, out of insecurity, out of a false idea that we’re being humble when in fact we’re just hiding.

We do it when we avoid hard conversations.

When we stay in comfortable roles instead of stepping into real leadership.

When we tell ourselves, “I’m not that guy,” even though God is clearly calling us forward.

I see it in myself—on the job site, in board meetings, in front of my own kids.

The temptation to retreat.

To over-correct.

To shrink when I should stand.

But here’s the kicker: pusillanimity is not humility. Moses stuttered, Jeremiah was just a boy, but they said yes. They acted.

Saul? He stayed silent. And that silence metastasized.

Contrast that with David, who embraced kingship with a heart after God’s own—even when it meant running for his life. That’s the kind of magnanimity—greatness of soul—that Aquinas points us toward. Not arrogance or swagger - obedience.

Friday’s reading shifts the scene.

Saul rises up with righteous zeal—Spirit-filled, decisive, victorious.

It’s his best day as king. But even that… wasn’t enough.

Because zeal without transformation is a fire that burns out.

David’s zeal flowed from intimacy with God.

Jesus’s zeal—devotion, justice, sacrifice—flowed from the Sacred Heart.

A heart wounded and ablaze at the same time.

That’s the kind of kingly leadership we’re being shaped for.

This summer, some of us are getting wins. Breakthroughs. A season of favor. Don’t let that become a trap. Don’t confuse the rush of the Spirit for the fruit of the Spirit. When you get the win, don’t buy the boat. Take a breath. Give glory to God. Say a quiet thanks and stay close to the work. Stay near the cross.

Here’s the practice I’m working on this week:

• When success comes, don’t show it off—show up in service.

• When called forward, don’t hide behind the baggage—step up.

• And when fire comes, let it purify, not puff up.

God gave you gifts not to lock in a safe but to put to work for others. Let’s live like men whose talents belong to the Master—not ourselves.