Lent 2B

These first two Sundays of Lent retell the old stories of God’s establishing covenants with humankind. Last Sunday we heard God’s repenting of the damage God had inflicted upon the earth and how subsequently God set a bow in the sky, as a sign of the covenant God was establishing with humankind to show that never again would God strike down the flesh that lives on earth. This Sunday we hear the account of the covenant that God makes with Abram and Sarai.

God, El Shaddai, meaning, ‘God, the One of the mountains,’ appears to Abram in Abram’s ninety-ninth year, calls him to a holy life and cuts a covenant with him that will involve Abram’s self-cutting as a permanent sign of this covenant [in Hebrew the word to establish a covenant is to ‘cut’]. God promises Abram that his descendents will be exceedingly numerous, to the point of Abram’s being the ancestor of a multitude of nations. As a sign of making that covenant, God changes Abram’s name to exactly what God means: Abraham, ‘ancestor of a multitude.’ Abraham’s co-creator will be Sarai, whose name is changed to Sarah, a mark of changed destiny: in her case, she will bear a child at a very advanced age. Abraham’s unspoken covenant with God is so majestic that it forms a central plank in all three Abrahamic faiths. (1)

Bruce Feiler, in his book, Abraham: A Journey to the Heart of Three Faiths, writes, ‘Abraham, the son of Terah, has now been re-created as the son of God. Now that he has God in his life (as well as on his body), he is ready to fulfill God’s promise and become father of the world’ (69). This transformation of a 99 year-old man into the progenitor of a nation that will be as numerous as the stars in heaven is pretty powerful stuff. God calls Abraham and he responds, wordlessly but through action, first setting out from his homeland and then accepting a covenant that changes him physically and spiritually.

Why does God reach out to Abraham to accept this covenant? Bruce Feiler suggests that ‘the breadth of [God’s] offer suggests [God] needs Abraham as much as Abraham needs [God]’ (42). This is consonant with Rabbi Abraham Heschel’s thought that God created humankind because God needed a partner in creation and conversation — someone else who could tell the story of salvation.

Feiler believes that ‘God needs someone faithful, who won’t disobey and who will appreciate all the blessings [God] has to offer. Above all, God needs someone who needs [God] and who will rise to [God’s] lofty standards. He needs Abraham. Abraham inaugurates the twentieth generation of humans. Yet, from the beginning, he is different from the preceding ones: he is not righteous, he is not special. He is not godly in any way. Plus he’s restless.… He leaves one place for another but stops before he arrives and settles in a new place. He seems unsure’ (23-24). Doesn’t this sound so much like so many of us? Could God use us in a like fashion?

The paradox, of course, is because Abraham is old, ordinary and so much like us, he is precisely the type person God likes to call into service. God is not looking for the superman or woman. God is looking for people like you and me who will do their best to be faithful. God longs for us to be a part of God’s salvation. When our hearts share in that longing, then we hear God’s call.

Marc Gellman in his delightful book, Does God Have a Big Toe?, beautifully illustrated by Oscar de Mejo, retells God’s calling Abram in these words:

‘Most people do not realize it, but God put in calls to other people before finally putting in a call to Abram. First God called Eber and said, “Eber, leave your country and your neighbours and your family and go to a land I will show you, and I will make of you a great nation and I will bless you and make your name great and you will be a blessing…”

And Eber said, “Who are you?” And God said, “God.” And Eber said, “The god of what? And God said, “The God of everything.” And Eber said, “Don’t be ridiculous, there is no god of everything….” Eber and God never talked again.’

God and Peleg, the next person, have a similar conversation, only Peleg laughs in God’s face because he doesn’t believe that he doesn’t have to bow down in front of God or make of God a graven image. Next along comes Serug, whom God invites to leave his country, etc. Serug’s response is, ‘“What will you give me?” And God said, “I just told you.” And Serug said, “You don’t understand. I am not interested in moving anywhere or doing anything so that my great-great-great-great grand-children will be a great nation. I want to know what is in this deal for me right now. I will go wherever you want for most of the money in the world and the kingship of the five largest countries. How about that?” But God said nothing.’

So when God gets to Abram and issues the same invitation, God is not quite sure about finding the right man. Abram answers God, “I will go, but there is just one thing I want.” God asked what that one thing was, and Abram answered, “I want to take my family with me.”

‘God asked him, “That’s it? You just want your family to come with you? Don’t you want to see me?” And Abram said, “No.” And God asked, “Don’t you want to bow down to a statue of me?” And Abram said, “No.” And God asked, “Abram, don’t you want anything for yourself?” And Abram said, “No.”

‘Right then God decided not to ask Abram any more questions, and God let Abram gather his family and pack their things for the journey to the place that God would show them.

‘Right then, God knew that the right man was going to the right place at the right time for the right reasons. God also knew that such things hardly ever happen.’ (2)

Abraham hungers and longs for God; it is this thirst that enables him to do the unthinkable and to say yes to God, even later on in the Abrahamic story when God asks him to sacrifice Isaac, his only son. Abraham’s trust in God overshadows any doubts there might be, as astounding as that may seem to us.

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Taking simple persons — us — and using us is a big part of this morning’s lesson. The flip side to this example lies in these questions: How does our faith help us to go to the desert and wander as did Abraham? How does our faith help us to say ‘Yes’ to God’s outrageous desires as did Abraham? How does our faith enable us not to fall into the trap of trying to bargain with God the way Serug does in the imagined story? Is it sufficient that our response be, ‘If you’re calling me God, I have to pray for the grace to accept’? I think so because when we let ourselves be open to God’s grace, that grace enables us to do or face far more than we ever thought we’d be able to. That grace is the one of the greatest riches that God can give us. When we trust in God’s grace, we can let go of figuring out what is in God’s request for us and, instead, go with the flow.

Perhaps, in terms of the Markan reading which is paired with the story of Abraham, the taking up of one’s cross is simply following God without knowing what it is precisely God desires of us, nor knowing really where God is leading us but being faithful and trusting, as was Abraham. We are called to be faithful, not just to ourselves but the generations that follow us. We are called to be faithful and walk on God’s path, even when we don’t know where it is leading us. We are called to be faithful, understanding all of life as a journey of discerning God’s call.

Sometimes that following leads us to hard times, unanswered prayers to God, and a seeming silence from God. Somehow in the depths of our souls, we have to believe that God is there. God has made a solemn covenant with us to that effect. Sometimes, though, we don’t sense God’s presence but even when those moments happen, God is still present, even in the silence. God does not invite us to follow God’s path in order to dangle us over the pit or to die of thirst in the desert, rather God leads us into a ministry of liberation, healing and hope. Another part of the message of Abraham, then, is ‘to be alone, to be quiet, and to listen. If you never hear the Call in the first place, you’ll never know which way to go’ (50).

Let this Lent be a time of listening to God, that God’s voice might make itself clearer. Or, if God seems utterly absent from your life, let this Lent be a time when you might begin to hear once again God’s voice. And then be ready with a willing heart to go wherever God desires you to go and do whatever God desires you to do, for God deeply longs for us to be partners in God’s story.

END NOTES
(1) Bruce Feiler, Abraham: A Journey to the Heart of Three Faiths (New York, NY: William Morrow, 2002), 44. All citations are from this book.
(2) Marc Gellmann, Oscar de Mejo, Does God Have a Big Toe? (NY, NY: HarperCollins 1998), 47-51.

[photo] set up for Eucharist in the chapel during Lent