Abraham and Sarah: God is Faithful Still

Transcribed from the sermon preached March 8, 2009

The Reverend Max Lynn, Pastor

Scripture Readings: Genesis 17:1-16, Romans 4:13-25, Mark 8:34-38

Douglas Coupland, of Generation X fame, reflects on the fruitlessness and exile of his generation in Life After God. (Pocket Books, Simon & Schuster)

As suburban children we floated at night in swimming pools the temperature of blood; pools the color of Earth as seen from outer space… We would float and be naked- -pretending to be embryos, pretending to be fetuses--all of us silent save for the hum of the pool filter. Our minds would be blank and our eyes closed as we floated in warm waters, the distinction between our bodies and our brains reduced to nothing--bathed in chlorine and lit by pure blue lights installed underneath diving boards.

Life was charmed but without politics or religion. It was the life of children of the children of the pioneers--life after God--a life of earthly salvation on the edge of heaven. Perhaps this is the finest thing to which we may aspire, the life of peace, the blurring between dream life and real life--and yet I find myself speaking these words with a sense of doubt. I think there was a trade-off somewhere along the line.

I think the price we paid for our golden life was an inability to fully believe in love; instead we gained an irony that scorched everything it touched. And I wonder if this irony is the price we paid for the loss of God.

In an era when amusement is sacred, when relationship and contracts begin and end everyday, when prenuptial contracts anticipate the end before the relationship begins, when the spiritual trend is toward individual mysticism on my own terms and my own time, because we don’t want faith or relationship to get in the way of the rest of our life, Abraham and Sarah bring an old school dose of faithful living.

Last week I talked about the story of Noah and the flood and the first covenant represented by the bow. Today we jump forward to the second covenant.  In this covenant, God will give Sari and Abram a child, and make them father of multitudes of nations.  Also, God will reiterate the land grant.  For Abram and Sari’s part, to remind them their offspring of the covenant, their names are changed and Abraham is to be circumcised.

For the J author who writes on behalf and in support of king David, Abraham sets the example of one who relies entirely on the power and blessing of God.  Abram must leave what Bob Coote calls “his secure place within the reproductive and kinship culture of his homeland, and go from the house of his father... to the land that Yahweh would show him, in order that Yahweh might make him into a great nation and that he might bless him by making great his name.”  Yahweh blesses Abraham with an heir, by growing a great nation, and placing them in territory: God grants reproduction, political power, and territory. 

Last week remember that the flood came when Yahweh became angry with the “men of renown”, the ruling elite and warrior class who amassed progeny, power and fame on their own. (Coote, Robert and David Ord.  The Bible’s First History. Fortress. 1989)

Family-less, childless, and landless, Abram and Sari are on their own and must then completely trust in Yahweh.  Just like supporters of Obama like to pull up stories of FDR and Lincoln, and Bush, Reagan, so David’s scribes make connections with heroes of the past for David’s benefit. It is David who actually unites all the so-called children of Abraham and unifies the twelve tribes into one blessed nation covering the land promised to Abraham in J’s story.  And David is the loner as well, who, by trusting in Yahweh, comes to power and is blessed to be King of Israel.  He will bless those who bless him and curse those who curse him.

The other contributor to this story, the Priestly author, writes after the exile to Babylon in the sixth century.  The tip of society, the ruling elite was cut off from their homeland, family and political sovereignty in Israel.  They return from Exile, as old as Abraham and Sarah in our story with nothing of their previous glory intact.  They wonder about God’s faithfulness.  They also wonder about control of blood, purity and sacrifice.  It is not hard to imagine the symbolic significance of circumcision.  As he cuts off a piece of the tool for reproduction, the descendant of Abraham expresses his reliance on God for reproduction and family.  As they have faith and rely on God, they will be blessed.

In the Gospel, we see this Abrahamic reliance on God in Jesus, who, instead of grasping for progeny and power and land, dedicates himself to living out the love of God, sacrificing even his life.  In turn, Jesus returns and lives into eternity, in his death and resurrection he seals the New Covenant, expanding the family of God to include all those who rely on God’s grace – through faith.

     In the early church, there is a struggle between Jews and Gentiles.  Some Jewish Christians insisted that followers of Christ must be circumcised.  There are gentiles who hear the message of forgiveness and sacrificial love and liberation for all, and believe Christ has found the key to life over death, but find the practice of snipping off the “willy” repulsive and a bit nuts.

Paul says that circumcision is a part of cultural law and is secondary to faith.  Abraham’s blessing came as a result of faith, not because of the laws he followed.  Christians then are to dedicate their lives to God in Christ, whether we are circumcised or not.  Reliance and dedication to God is the foundation of the New Covenant, regardless of one’s cultural norms and laws.

We will get deep into a discussion of modern Israel and Palestine next week and the week after in adult forum.  Today I wonder what God might have to say on a more personal note.  I love to draw upon mountain top experiences to encourage faith: those moments of powerful and clear mystical union when we glimpse, if for a moment, the glory of God.  So when we ask each other when we have felt close to God many of us will mention, for example, our first backpacking trip to the Sierra, a flawless performance by an orchestra, a drive through the desert at sunset, swimming with whales.

But with Abraham and Sarah, we find relationship with God in the long run, for richer for poorer, in joy and in sorrow, in sickness and in health, as long as they both shall live.  There is divinity in faithfulness.  The other day I heard a man tell the testimony of how his wife demanded that he learn intimacy and not just seek physical release.  Then after he had a heart attack and blood pressure problems, his health issues combined with medication made what most men think of as the act of sex impossible.  Now, that intimacy has become beautiful and has brought a deeper connection and satisfaction than they had ever had before. Faith in the long haul!

I think of the fact that in most marriages, one or both people wind up leaving their family and hometown in an act of faith that God will provide in the new, strange, unknown location. Faith in the long haul!       

I think of the couple, unable to have children, struggle with the realization, and then move forward to adopt children, maybe across borders and race, becoming quite literally, a blessing to many nations.  God is faithful still. I think of the sandwich generation, a couple caring for both parents and children.

I think of a Great Depression era conservative couple who has been married 70 years, frugal and independent, no biological children of their own, faithful patriarchs even as their church passes through fads and adopts causes not their own.  In a culture where independence has come to mean quitting when things aren’t exactly to our liking, divorcing when we hit a rough spot, trading in for a newer model, switching and drifting to and fro with every philosophical wave or fashion breeze, perhaps we see divine fruit in their covenantal commitment.  God is faithful still.

I see the lesbian couple, inclined against strict adherence to the letter of the priestly law, sent off into exile by the Church, called by Christ back to the everlasting covenant through faith into the family of God.  God is faithful still.

The grandson who takes a moment from being cool to drive grandmother to the doctor.  Or the young Latina girl, in her coming of age Quinceanera, instead of gifts for herself requests donations to the Quiche clinic in Guatemala.  Even in future generations, God is faithful still.

Houston Smith, neighbor of Don Rising, Methodist Minister and author of the great textbook, World Religions, says, “Religion is like a cow, it kicks, but it gives milk too.”  We hear about the grand errors of religion, the stupidity and arrogance of its fanatics and charlatans, the rigidity of its doctrine, the self-serving nature in all the stories we tell.  So much of this criticism is true and necessary.  But then there are the thousands, millions of faithful, who quietly go years, decades, inspired by these imperfect stories of imperfect people, and they live sure of God’s blessing, and despite difficulty and long suffering, make one small faithful decision after another. The good news and truth of the Gospel shines forth from them in a thousand little ways, the tree of their long lives weighted down by the sweet little plums of their faith. And we can only say, thank you God.