Unraveled: Sarah Laughs

The Lord appeared to Abraham at the oaks of Mamre while he sat at the entrance of his tent in the day’s heat. He looked up and suddenly saw three men standing near him. As soon as he saw them, he ran from his tent entrance to greet them and bowed deeply. He said, “Sirs, if you would be so kind, don’t just pass by your servant. Let a little water be brought so you may wash your feet and refresh yourselves under the tree. Let me offer you a little bread so you will feel stronger, and after that you may leave your servant and go on your way—since you have visited your servant.”

They responded, “Fine. Do just as you have said.”

So Abraham hurried to Sarah at his tent and said, “Hurry! Knead three seahs of the finest flour and make some baked goods!” Abraham ran to the cattle, took a healthy young calf, and gave it to a young servant, who prepared it quickly. Then Abraham took butter, milk, and the calf that had been prepared, put the food in front of them, and stood under the tree near them as they ate.

They said to him, “Where’s your wife Sarah?”

And he said, “Right here in the tent.”

Then one of the men said, “I will definitely return to you about this time next year. Then your wife Sarah will have a son!”

Sarah was listening at the tent door behind him. Now Abraham and Sarah were both very old. Sarah was no longer menstruating. So Sarah laughed to herself, thinking, I’m no longer able to have children and my husband’s old.

The Lord said to Abraham, “Why did Sarah laugh and say, ‘Me give birth? At my age?’ Is anything too difficult for the Lord? When I return to you about this time next year, Sarah will have a son.”

Sarah lied and said, “I didn’t laugh,” because she was frightened.

But he said, “No, you laughed.”

The Lord was attentive to Sarah just as he had said, and the Lord carried out just what he had promised her. She became pregnant and gave birth to a son for Abraham when he was old, at the very time God had told him. Abraham named his son—the one Sarah bore him—Isaac. Abraham circumcised his son Isaac when he was eight days old just as God had commanded him. Abraham was 100 years old when his son Isaac was born. Sarah said, “God has given me laughter. Everyone who hears about it will laugh with me.” She said, “Who could have told Abraham that Sarah would nurse sons? But now I’ve given birth to a son when he was old!” --Genesis 18:1-15, 21:1-7 (CEB) 

Grace, mercy and peace to you from the Triune God - Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer. Amen.

The Festival of the Trinity. The one Sunday and the one topic that every pastor loves to preach on. Yeah, not so much.

Yesterday, as we closed Synod Assembly with worship, we heard a sermon by Deacon Mary Ann Schwabe. She was the representative from churchwide, from the national body of the ELCA, there, among other things, to bring greetings from Presiding Bishop Elizabeth Eaton. She opened her message with a quote about the Holy Trinity. About the impossibility of explaining the Trinity. A quote from Luther, who wrote: "To deny the Trinity is to risk our salvation. To try to explain the Trinity is to risk our insanity."

You see, try as theologians might, we don’t fully understand the Trinity. This Godhead made up of three Persons: Parent/Creator, Son/Redeemer, and Spirit/Sustainer. And to try to explain it is probably, as Luther suggested, inviting insanity.

So, for the moment, I’m not going to try. Although we will return to this topic in just a second or two.

Instead, I’d like to turn to our primary text today - this story about Abraham and Sarah. Really, a story about Sarah. And her laughter.

Early in the week, when I was exegeting this text before leaving for Muncie, I can’t even begin to tell you how many different interpretations and explanations there were about why Sarah laughed in this story. Some suggested she laughed from amusement - from an image of she, at the age of 90, and her husband Abraham, nearing 100, making a baby together. Some suggested that she laughed at the preposterous idea that, at the age of 90, post-menopausal, there was even any remote possibility of her conceiving a child. Others suggested that her laughter came from a place of deep bitterness over the fact that she and Abraham had not had the child - the heir - long promised by God. And yet others wrote that her laughter was from disbelief, from doubt about what the visitor - rather, the three visitors (pay attention to that especially on this Trinity Sunday) predicted - that Sarah was laughing in disbelief, doubt, and perhaps even scorn over the very possibility.

Perhaps all of these explanations of Sarah’s laughter are true, because much had happened before our story today. God had promised Abraham and Sarah to make of them a great nation. Then, after this hadn’t happened and after Sarah had moved beyond child-bearing age, she had taken matters into her own hands, giving Hagar, her servant girl to Abraham. Forcing her into surrogacy. Then, growing jealous when Hagar became pregnant with Ishmael, Abraham’s first-born son. All of this then followed by a visit, at the age of 90, from these three strangers whom we, from the outside looking in, know to be God - strangers who tell her that by next year at this time she will have a son. Her laughter must have come from all of these different places: from amusement, and bitterness, and grief, and even pure glee at the absurdity of it all. 

But, mostly, it would seem, at least to me, that Sarah’s laughter comes from disbelief. From a lack of belief in the future God has promised both her and Abraham. A disbelief that, by the following year, is completely unraveled by the gift of her son, Isaac. Whose very name means “laughter.” 

I mentioned at the beginning of worship this morning that, for 12 weeks, we will be hearing 12 different stories or resilience from Scripture. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been hearing the word - resilience - a lot over the past several months. This past week, I read a definition for this word in a Psychology Today article: Resilience is the psychological quality that allows some people to be knocked down by the adversities of life and come back at least as strong as before. Rather than letting difficulties, or traumatic events, or failure overcome them and drain their resolve, people who are resilient find a way to change course. To heal emotionally. And to continue moving forward.

In a related article I also read that people of faith are often more highly resilient. Because, in some ways, faith is synonymous with hope. Both faith and hope allow us to see a future beyond the present moment. But, it is faith that helps us more readily understand and accept that our present difficulties are part of the path to a better future. That’s the nature of faith. The nature of belief. To be able to see the connections between our present situation and the future. The opposite of this is disbelief. It's disbelief that led, in large part, to Sarah's laughter. Because, after all that had happened, after all she'd experienced, she was no longer able to see the future God had promised for her. And for Abraham. 

I wonder how many people in our world today lack this kind of faith. This belief in the future. And, really, is it any wonder that they do? Every day we are witness to a world that just seems to be struggling. To be hurting so deeply. Even to be falling apart. 

Or maybe it’s not just the world that seems to be so unsettled. Perhaps, we’re experiencing it in our own lives. An unexpected illness. Or a deep loss. Or even confusion about who we are and where we are at in our lives. Where it feels as though the future is so uncertain, so dark and cloudy. Or even, perhaps, when it feels as though there is no future. 

It is then - just as for Sarah - that, as one contemporary theologian puts it, it is then that our loving and relational God, the mysterious Trinity comes and invites us in. To abide in the holy. To admit the difficulties of the present. And the truth of what is unknown. To stop hiding behind false statements and facade of sureness. And to, once again, be reminded of the future God has in store for us. A future of abundance and wholeness. Of lives filled with hope and faith and love. And, especially, of lives that are full of laughter - the joyous laughter that comes from trusting God and living into the hope of that future God has promised for you and me, and for all people - a future given to us through the unexplainable presence and power of God, known as parent and Creator, as Word made flesh, and as life-giving Breath. 

Praise be to God! Amen.

Preached June 12, 2022, at Grace & Glory, Prospect, with Third, Louisville, and New Goshen Presbyterian, Prospect.

Holy Trinity

Readings: Genesis 18:1-15, 21:1-7; Psalm 116:1-2, 12-19

God Provides Blessings: Heart of a Parent

The Lord was attentive to Sarah just as he had said, and the Lord carried out just what he had promised her. She became pregnant and gave birth to a son for Abraham when he was old, at the very time God had told him. Abraham named his son—the one Sarah bore him—Isaac.

After these events, God tested Abraham and said to him, “Abraham!”

Abraham answered, “I’m here.”

God said, “Take your son, your only son whom you love, Isaac, and go to the land of Moriah. Offer him up as an entirely burned offering there on one of the mountains that I will show you.” Abraham got up early in the morning, harnessed his donkey, and took two of his young men with him, together with his son Isaac. He split the wood for the entirely burned offering, set out, and went to the place God had described to him.

On the third day, Abraham looked up and saw the place at a distance. Abraham said to his servants, “Stay here with the donkey. The boy and I will walk up there, worship, and then come back to you.”

Abraham took the wood for the entirely burned offering and laid it on his son Isaac. He took the fire and the knife in his hand, and the two of them walked on together. Isaac said to his father Abraham, “My father?”

Abraham said, “I’m here, my son.”

Isaac said, “Here is the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for the entirely burned offering?”

Abraham said, “The lamb for the entirely burned offering? God will see to it, my son.” The two of them walked on together.

They arrived at the place God had described to him. Abraham built an altar there and arranged the wood on it. He tied up his son Isaac and laid him on the altar on top of the wood. Then Abraham stretched out his hand and took the knife to kill his son as a sacrifice. But the Lord’s messenger called out to Abraham from heaven, “Abraham? Abraham?”

Abraham said, “I’m here.”

The messenger said, “Don’t stretch out your hand against the young man, and don’t do anything to him. I now know that you revere God and didn’t hold back your son, your only son, from me.” Abraham looked up and saw a single ram caught by its horns in the dense underbrush. Abraham went over, took the ram, and offered it as an entirely burned offering instead of his son. Abraham named that place “the Lord sees.” That is the reason people today say, “On this mountain the Lord is seen.” --Genesis 21:1-3; 22:1-14 (CEB)

Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father and from God’s beloved Son, our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Parenting is so hard, isn’t it? Whether you love children of your own making, or children of your siblings, or grandchildren, parenting - in every form - is hard. My son is well beyond his “difficult” years, but I still remember the challenges of that time. Not so much that he was “difficult,” but that the choices I had to make as a parent were difficult. Whether to work those extra hours, so I could make more money and better support him. Or to choose to spend time with him instead and risk running out of food at the end of the month. Or then, there are the choices we make about our children’s behaviors - whether to respond and, if so, how strongly to respond, always worried about the risk of how an exaggerated response might escalate their response. And, even, possibly drive them away.

And, then, there are the sacrifices, aren’t there? When they're younger, it’s such a sacrifice of time. The constant feeling of exhaustion and a sense that you weren’t really prepared for this. Even as they grow older and older, the sacrifices change, but they are still there. Yet, none of those sacrifices even begin to compare to that being asked of Abraham in our story today.

This is a hard story. Let’s just be honest about this. In the Jewish tradition, this story is called the “Binding of Isaac.” I wonder if it's not better called “The Destruction of Abraham.” Abraham is called by God - this God we heard of last week as a creating God, a God of life. Abraham is called by God to take his one remaining son. (Remember how he sent his other son, Ishmael, born of Hagar, away and into the wilderness?) Abraham is called by God to take Isaac, his one remaining son. His most beloved child. To go to Mount Moriah - the future site of the temple - and to sacrifice him on an altar they will build together. 

One can only wonder what kind of God would do this? Would ask this of a man to whom a nation had been promised from this son? A father who loved his son more than everything? This story seems to completely contradict everything we know and believe about God.

But, there’s one more thing about this story. Something that nags at me each time I’ve read it.  As a parent, I have to ask the questions - maybe you’re asking them, too - Why does Abraham make the choices he does? And, why doesn’t Abraham say anything to challenge God in any way? 

We all have to make choices in our lives. Choices as parents. How to raise our kids. What to teach them. Whether to allow them to do certain things. And I don’t know about you, but there have been many times that I’ve made the wrong choices. Even with good intent. There were times when my choices were just complete failures. But, I think with most of us, our choices come out of our experience. Experiences that are so different from parent to parent. Experiences that drive us to make the decisions we make for our kids. And their lives. And our lives together.

Perhaps that’s why Abraham made the choice he made. Why he didn’t challenge God when God told him to take his son, his only son, his beloved son, and sacrifice him on the mountain that day. Perhaps Abraham made this choice based on his own experience with God. Up to this point, God had asked him to do a lot of things. Ten tests, in fact, according to Jewish tradition. Moving away with Sarah from their homeland to become strangers in this new land of Canaan. Then, on arriving, facing a famine. And then, promised to become a great nation, he and Sarah continued to be childless. The tests had been many for Abraham, from his first meeting with God. Yet, so far, his experience was that this God, to whom he had been covenanted, was a God who kept promises. A God who remained faithful.

So, perhaps, Abraham made the choice he made because he believed that God would be faithful. That God would not let his future and that of Isaac be destroyed.

This text has traditionally been read on Good Friday. If we were to read this story today as if it were that day, perhaps it might - as one theologian puts it - become at least clear why Abraham can afford to trust God with his own beloved son. Because, in every circumstance and beyond all reason, God can be trusted with a child because God’s heart is wholly the heart of a parent. And it’s on Good Friday that we see, with eyes of faith, our own God standing just as Abraham did. An anguished parent yearning over his adorable, true and only Son. Bound on the wood. Behold the Lamb of God.

In our Christian tradition, we know this God as the one whose heart has been torn wide open by the conflict between God’s love for God’s Son. And God’s love for the world. 

We know the choice made by God. Yet, stranger than strange, in making this choice, we also see that God’s heart, once it is ripped wide open, now has the capacity to love even more.

Thanks be to God! Amen.

Preached September 19, 2021, at Grace & Glory, Prospect, and Third, Louisville.

17th Sunday after Pentecost

Readings: Genesis 21:1-3, 22:1-14; John 1:29

God Creates Family: Wrestling With God

Have you ever seen a wrestling match in person? Now, I’m not talking about professional wrestling - although, I'll be honest, I’ve seen a few of those matches. I’m talking about real wrestling. Where you have two men (or women) in close - really close - proximity to each other. Using grappling-style techniques like clinch fighting, throws and takedowns, pins and other holds to gain points. It’s a combat sport where there is little to separate you from your opponent. One of the oldest forms of combat - there are drawings from 15,000 years ago that portray wrestling matches.

I first really became aware of wrestling in 1988. That was the year of the Olympics in Seoul, Korea. It just so happened that there were two sets of twins wrestling that year - two sets of twins from South Dakota. (That’s was a big chunk of SD’s population then! haha) One of the sets of twins - Jim and Bill Scherr - was from Mobridge, the town where I went to high school. So, naturally, my interest was really piqued and I followed them throughout the competition. 

It takes incredible strength to be a wrestler. Strength, flexibility, and just overall scrappiness to be a good wrestler. But, it’s not just about the physical. Wrestling is really a mind game. Developing strategies, psyching out your opponent, pacing oneself. Being a wrestler and participating in a wrestling match is a full mind and body contact sport.

It's this sport - wrestling - that is central to our story today. A wrestling match between Jacob and God. Between Jacob and, well maybe, God. 

A lot has happened since last week’s story. Who remembers who we were talking about last week? Yes, Sarah and Abraham. And, near the end of the story, we met Isaac, the son born to them at ages 90 and 100, respectively. The beginning of their family. The beginning of God’s family, of God’s special people.

Since then to today, we’ve jumped 10-12 chapters in Genesis. In the time between, we’ve seen Isaac married. To Rebekah. Rebekah, like Sarah, was painfully barren until her later years, when God blessed her and Isaac with a child. Well, actually, two children. Sons. Twins. Esau, the first born. And Jacob, second born. They came out of her womb with Jacob holding onto Esau’s heel. It’s why Jacob was named Jacob. His name means “heel.” 

Jacob was a heel. A trickster. A deceiver. Stealing Esau’s inheritance, something that Esau would have been entitled to as the oldest. Yet, tricked out of it by his younger brother. Then, in chapter 27, Esau is tricked once again. This time, Jacob, with his mother’s help, deceives Isaac into giving him his spiritual blessing. This deception was the last straw for Esau. He swore to kill Jacob. It was only with Rebekah’s help that Jacob was able to flee - to run away to the east to stay with his uncle, Laban. It is here where the trickster is himself deceived. In this new land, Jacob meets Rachel, falls in love, and is tricked by her father, Jacob’s uncle Laban, into marrying her older sister, Leah, before he can marry the woman of his dreams. The trickster tricks the trickster. 

As the years pass, Jacob’s household grows and grows. God has continued to bless him with children and with wealth. By the time our story opens today, Jacob is a rich man and has 66 children. Sixty-six! He has convinced Leah and Rachel that it is time to return to Jacob’s homeland. Which they do.

But, the closer they get, the more anxious Jacob becomes. He knows that, when he left, his relationship with Esau was completely broken. He is fearful that time hasn’t healed the wounds between them. That, if he returns, Esau will kill him. Jacob is worried. In the verses before our reading today, we learn that Jacob has sent messengers to go Esau, to tell him that Jacob has been staying with Laban and that he is now returning with much wealth. It is this wealth that Jacob hopes will impress Esau, erase the hard feelings, and buy his good favor. Because Jacob is convinced that Esau is bent on revenge. Jacob’s fear is real and reasonable.

It is here where our reading today begins. With a prayer. Spoken by Jacob in his fear and anxiety.

Jacob said, “Lord, God of my father Abraham, God of my father Isaac, who said to me, ‘Go back to your country and your relatives, and I’ll make sure things go well for you,’ I don’t deserve how loyal and truthful you’ve been to your servant. I went away across the Jordan with just my staff, but now I’ve become two camps. Save me from my brother Esau! I’m afraid he will come and kill me, the mothers, and their children. You were the one who told me, ‘I will make sure things go well for you, and I will make your descendants like the sand of the sea, so many you won’t be able to count them.’”

Jacob spent that night there. From what he had acquired, he set aside a gift for his brother Esau.  --Genesis 32:9-13 (CEB)

Have you ever prayed a prayer like this? Where you’ve done what God has told you to do or gone where God has directed you to go and you are terrified about what will happen. And you pray to God. And you say, “Remember, God? You were the one who told me to do this. You were the one who said it would go well for me.  But, it doesn’t feel like that - that everything will be okay. In truth, it feels like everything will fall apart. And that, in some way, I will be badly hurt by this, by following where you have led me.” 

Have you ever prayed like this? Afraid. Fearful of being badly hurt.

Jacob got up during the night, took his two wives, his two women servants, and his eleven sons, and crossed the Jabbok River’s shallow water. He took them and everything that belonged to him, and he helped them cross the river. But Jacob stayed apart by himself, and a man wrestled with him until dawn broke. When the man saw that he couldn’t defeat Jacob, he grabbed Jacob’s thigh and tore a muscle in Jacob’s thigh as he wrestled with him. The man said, “Let me go because the dawn is breaking.”

But Jacob said, “I won’t let you go until you bless me.”

He said to Jacob, “What’s your name?” and he said, “Jacob.” Then he said, “Your name won’t be Jacob any longer, but Israel, because you struggled with God and with men and won.”

Jacob also asked and said, “Tell me your name.”

But he said, “Why do you ask for my name?” and he blessed Jacob there. Jacob named the place Peniel, “because I’ve seen God face-to-face, and my life has been saved.”  --Genesis 32:22-30 (CEB)

As Jacob is all alone on the other side of the river, the wrestling match begins. His opponent know his tenacity. His ability to trick and to deceive. This Jacob the Heel. As the dawn approaches, Jacob’s opponent becomes concerned. Is it that he doesn’t want Jacob to see his face? Remember the words from Exodus 33 - “No one who has seen God face to face has lived?” Jacob’s opponent wants his freedom. But Jacob holds on and will not let him go. Demanding that his wrestling opponent bless him. Maybe if he can just hold on long enough, he can get it. That blessing. 

Finally, Jacob’s opponent declares that he will now have a new name. Israel. Meaning “one who struggles with God.” And, although this mysterious stranger refuses to tell Jacob his name, he blesses him. It is then that Jacob names this place, Peniel. Which means “face of God.” And we now know who this wrestler is. God. Jacob has been wrestling God. The God of his ancestors. 

Do you wrestle with God? With the God of Jacob’s ancestors? With the God of our ancestors? It is not easy - this life in God’s kingdom. Just as Jacob wrestled with God, we do, too. Perhaps it is with fear, like Jacob’s, that you wrestle with God. Seeking - no, demanding - God’s blessing. God’s assurance that everything will be okay. That everything will go well. Or perhaps it is with stubbornness. That you struggle with God's will for you or your will for yourself. Or perhaps it is with doubt, that you wrestle with God. Seeking that small blessing of faith that seems to elude us at times. 

Do you wrestle with God?

Jacob was forever changed that night as he wrestled with God. It wasn’t only his name that changed. He, himself, was changed. Wounded in the struggle. Walking from that point on with a limp. Perhaps it was that wound that was a reminder for him of God’s presence. Of God’s blessing. Of God’s love and faithfulness that night. Just as the wounds on the hands and feet of Christ are a reminder for us of God’s presence. Of God’s blessing. Of God’s love.

We are all walking wounded. Whether it is because of messes we have created, relationships we have fractured. Or wounds that have been inflicted upon us. We, like Jacob, all walk wounded. Yet, may we remember that as we, in our tenacity and in our faith, continue to cling to and, yes, to wrestle with God, we, too, like Jacob, have received God’s blessing. We, too, like Jacob, live. Wounded, but alive in Christ. And we, too, like Jacob, will see God face to face. 

Thanks be to God! Amen.

Preached Sunday, September 22, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran, Goshen, KY.
Pentecost 15
Readings: Genesis 32:9-13, 22-30; Mark 14:32-36

God Creates Family: A Family Affair

The Lord appeared to Abraham at the oaks of Mamre while he sat at the entrance of his tent in the day’s heat. He looked up and suddenly saw three men standing near him. As soon as he saw them, he ran from his tent entrance to greet them and bowed deeply. He said, “Sirs, if you would be so kind, don’t just pass by your servant. Let a little water be brought so you may wash your feet and refresh yourselves under the tree. Let me offer you a little bread so you will feel stronger, and after that you may leave your servant and go on your way—since you have visited your servant.”

They responded, “Fine. Do just as you have said.”

So Abraham hurried to Sarah at his tent and said, “Hurry! Knead three seahs of the finest flour and make some baked goods!” Abraham ran to the cattle, took a healthy young calf, and gave it to a young servant, who prepared it quickly. Then Abraham took butter, milk, and the calf that had been prepared, put the food in front of them, and stood under the tree near them as they ate.

They said to him, “Where’s your wife Sarah?”

And he said, “Right here in the tent.”

Then one of the men said, “I will definitely return to you about this time next year. Then your wife Sarah will have a son!”

Sarah was listening at the tent door behind him. Now Abraham and Sarah were both very old. Sarah was no longer menstruating. So Sarah laughed to herself, thinking, I’m no longer able to have children and my husband’s old.

The Lord said to Abraham, “Why did Sarah laugh and say, ‘Me give birth? At my age?’ Is anything too difficult for the Lord? When I return to you about this time next year, Sarah will have a son.”

Sarah lied and said, “I didn’t laugh,” because she was frightened.

But he said, “No, you laughed.” --Genesis 18:1-15 (CEB)

When we left last week’s story, life was good!

We heard the story of the creation of the first family. The human family. Man and woman living in God’s garden - Eden - a word that means “beautiful.” Living in relationship with and caring for each other and God’s creation. And, particularly, living in relationship with God.

Life was good inside the garden!

Today, we move to life outside the garden. We experienced in our confession this morning how sin entered into that idyllic place, severing relationships. More has happened in between last week’s story and today. There’s been a big flood. The people built a tower seeking to make a name for themselves. God has called Abram and made a promise - that from Abram’s offspring, God will make a great nation, through whom the entire world will be blessed. 

God has continued to reinforce that promise a few more times, even changing the names of Abram and his wife, Sarai, to Abraham and Sarah - marking the beginnings of their new life. And the new story that God is now writing - a story of a peculiar people. Peculiar meaning “special.” A people through whom God intends to bless all humanity. And, especially, a people through whom God will restore the broken relationships that sin has caused.

But, there is a problem. We learn two chapters before today’s story that Sarah is barren. It must seem like a cruel joke. Because to be barren in a world where, for women, everything depends upon your ability to have children. And for God to promise that this new people would come from Abraham and Sarah. It must seem like such a cruel joke. And hard to believe.

It’s so hard for Sarah to believe that she arranges for Abraham to sleep with her servant Hagar, who then conceives and has a son, Ishmael. But, instead of resolving the problem, things become worse. Sarah becomes jealous of Hagar. And Hagar throws her newfound importance in Sarah’s face. 

It must seem like such a cruel joke. 

Then, in the chapter before today’s story, God comes to Abraham once more. Abraham is now 99 years old. God comes to him and once more promises that he and Sarah will have a child. At 99! When neither of them have the physical capabilities left to make such a child, much less the desire. When their relationship must feel so broken. When the waiting has seemed so fruitless. Yet, God continues to promise Abraham that he and Sarah will have a child. And Abraham falls to the floor in laughter. 

It must seem like such a cruel joke.

As our story opens today, Abraham is sitting in the shade under the trees at Mamre. Mamre was the first place Abraham landed in Canaan. Where he pitched his first tent in the land God had promised him. Where he built his first altar to worship God. So, Mamre was not only a dwelling place for Abraham. It was also a religious place. 

As Abraham is resting in the shade of the oak trees, he sees three men - three strangers - passing by. He jumps up and runs from the entrance to his tent to greet them. To show them hospitality. To travel in these places was dangerous. One was completely reliant upon the hospitality of strangers. Hospitality was central to life in Canaan. So, Abraham approaches the three strangers and invites them to join him under the cool shade. To wash their feet. To rest. And to have a little something to eat.

They accept his offer. And Abraham gets to work. Well, actually, it’s a servant boy and Sarah who get to work. Abraham goes to Sarah and tells her to prepare three seahs of the finest flour to make bread. A little something to eat? More like 30 loaves of bread.

Abraham then catches a young calf. The best meat available. Veal. Gives it to a young servant boy and tells him to prepare it. Then, takes the prepared meat, the bread, butter and milk and serves it to his guests.

As they eat, they say to him, “Where’s your wife, Sarah?” Not, “Where’s your wife?” but “Where’s your wife, Sarah?” This seems odd. How is it that complete strangers know Sarah’s name? As the audience to this story, we’ve already been clued in to the divine nature of these strangers. But, there’s no indication that Abraham knows. Yet, with this one question, it begins to dawn on Abraham that these are no ordinary passersby. 

When Abraham tells them that Sarah is right here in the tent - not visible, but present, one of them says that next year, he will return and, by then, Sarah will have given birth to a son.

It’s interesting, isn’t it? How Sarah is the subject of this conversation, but not present. How she is the center of this conversation, but placed on the edge of it. 

When this stranger, whom we now know to be divine, whether it is God or a messenger of God - when this stranger foretells Sarah’s future, she laughs. Behind the flap of the tent door, where she’s been listening in on this strange conversation, hearing her name, which might have been the first thing to catch her attention. When she hears what the stranger says, she laughs. But, this isn’t a joy-filled laugh. This is a cynical laugh. She is 90 years old. Abraham is 100. She has been barren all her life - a barrenness that has harmed her relationship with Abraham and with members of her own household. She has waited and waited for this son promised by God. Waited and waited as she’s grown old and has been pushed further and further to the edges of society, as we so often do with those who are barren. Who are old. Who don’t seem to have any life left in them. When she hears what the stranger says, she laughs. 

Because, it has been a cruel joke. Almost a lie. A promise that God hasn’t kept. 

What are the cruel jokes in your lives? The barren places that cause you heartache and sadness? The parts of your life that seem like such a lie. Promises by God that you’ve believed in. Perhaps it's the barrenness of relationships - the loss of relationship in so many different ways with those we love. Perhaps the cruel joke of life itself, of growing old, as we gray and are pushed to the edges of a world that values youth. Devalued, when we should instead be valued for our wisdom and our life experience. Perhaps it's the life of riches - that if we only had more money and stuff we’d be happy. Yet, finding out that the more we accumulate the more empty we feel. 

What are the cruel jokes in your lives? The barren places? The lies in your life? The promises that it seems God has not kept and that too much time has passed for them to be kept? Where in your life do you cover these parts up - like Abraham and Sarah - with cynical laughter? Where in your life do you lack hope?

Well, for Abraham and Sarah, we find it just a few chapters later, in chapter 21.  

The Lord was attentive to Sarah just as he had said, and the Lord carried out just what he had promised her. She became pregnant and gave birth to a son for Abraham when he was old, at the very time God had told him. Abraham named his son—the one Sarah bore him—Isaac. Abraham circumcised his son Isaac when he was eight days old just as God had commanded him. Abraham was 100 years old when his son Isaac was born. Sarah said, “God has given me laughter. Everyone who hears about it will laugh with me.” She said, “Who could have told Abraham that Sarah would nurse sons? But now I’ve given birth to a son when he was old!” --Genesis 21:1-7 (CEB)

It’s like God’s checklist, isn’t it? The Lord heard Sarah. Check. The Lord carried out what the Lord had promised. Check. Sarah became pregnant. Check. She gave birth to a son for Abraham when he was very old at the very time God had told him. Check. Then, Abraham named his son - the son borne to him by barren Sarah - Isaac. Check. Isaac - meaning laughter. Not the cynical laughter of before, but laughter that is filled with joy. With hope. Check.

Sisters and brothers, God has made the same checklist for you and I. While life may feel at times like a cruel joke, God hears us and is at work in God’s own time, checking things off that list. Restoring and redeeming us in Christ. Check. Calling each of us and naming us as God’s own. Check. Calling us back when we stray. Check. Working life out of death. Hope out of despair. A future out of the barren places. Check.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” 

In the barrenness of our lives, may we believe God’s promises, just like Abraham and Sarah. And may we trust that out of these empty places, God will bring us laughter that is filled with joy. Amen.

Preached September 15, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Pentecost 14.
Readings: Genesis 18:1-15, 21:1-7; Mark 10:27

God's Promises Bring Hope: Trust and Blessing

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

Who here has seen the classic musical, The Sound of Music? Anyone remember how old they were when they saw it? I was seven years old. My great aunt Lottie took me to see it. She loved musicals and wanted to share her love of them with me.

Do you remember the opening scene? Well, in case you don’t or if you’ve never seen it, I have a treat today for you. Let's watch.

Now, why do you think I would play this opening scene to introduce today’s story? Anyone have an idea? 

Our story today about Abram is a turning point in the book of Genesis. Before this chapter, Chapter 9, we have all those familiar stories that make up what scholars call the “primeval history”--Creation, The Fall, Cain and Abel, and Noah and the Flood, which we heard last week. But, beginning this week, the focus narrows. Instead of stories about cosmic beginnings, we focus in on one couple, Abram and Sarai. So, just like the opening scene in The Sound of Music, where we begin way up high and have a wide-angled view of the Austrian Alps,  we see this tiny figure on top of one of the mountains, and then the camera pulls us in and zooms into this person who then fills the entire frame. With today’s story, we now have zoomed in on a closeup of Abram. And of Sarai, his wife. 

As we began worship today, we talked about the incredible trust in God that Abram must have had. I invited you to think about people in your lives that you trust, what it might feel like if you had no one you could trust, and, then, to wonder if someone asked you to pick up and move, whether you would. Like Abram.

I wonder how Abram felt. Perhaps a little scared? I wonder if he had hopes, too? One of the things we will hear today is how God’s promises bring hope to Abram. 

Do you have hopes in your life? Perhaps they’re hopes for the future. Or for your family. Or for something else. What are your hopes? 

Today, as we hear the story, we’re going to journey right along with Abram. We begin in Genesis, chapter 12. 

The Lord said to Abram, “Leave your land, your family, and your father’s household for the land that I will show you. 2 I will make of you a great nation and will bless you. I will make your name respected, and you will be a blessing.

3 I will bless those who bless you,
    those who curse you I will curse;
        all the families of the earth
            will be blessed because of you.”

4 Abram left just as the Lord told him, and Lot went with him. Now Abram was 75 years old when he left Haran. 

Do you, first of all, notice that there doesn’t seem to be anything special about Abram? In last week’s story about Noah, we read that he was a righteous man, blameless in his generation. And that “Noah walked with God.” But, there’s nothing like this in the first verses of our story today about Abram. 

Hmmm...something for us to think about.

Back to our story, we’re on this journey today with Abram. What do you do when you’re preparing to go on a journey? You plan your trip. Pack your bags. What are some of the things that you pack when you go on a journey? Yes, you might take clothing, toiletries, shoes, maybe a book to read along the way. All of these are things that we might pack in our suitcase as we prepare to go on our journey. 

But what if the journey you were taking meant you were leaving everything behind that was familiar to you and never returning? We heard in the opening verse that God told Abram to leave behind his land, his family, and his father’s household, which also meant leaving behind his entire inheritance. Everything and everyone Abram knew--God asked him to leave it all behind.

What might that feel like? Leaving your entire, familiar life behind? Oh, and do you remember hearing that Abram was 75 years old when God called him? Any of you 75-year-olds out there ready to leave everything behind and follow God’s call? Just like Abraham?

We continue our reading at verse 5. Abram took his wife Sarai, his nephew Lot, all of their possessions, and those who became members of their household in Haran; and they set out for the land of Canaan. 

Now Abram had already moved once, from Ur to Haran. He had traveled there with his father Terah and his nephew, Lot, many years before. They had originally planned to travel all the way to Canaan. But, when they arrived in Haran, they decided to settle there. By the time of our story today, they’ve already been living in Haran for many, many years. But, Haran is where the journey with Abraham begins today. 

Pretend that you are taking your family members and others sitting around you. We’ll leave Haran and head south.  Okay, this is Canaan, land of milk and honey. Oh, but, we’re not staying here! 

Verse 6. When they arrived in Canaan, Abram traveled through the land as far as the sacred place at Shechem, at the oak of Moreh. The Canaanites lived in the land at that time. Abraham passed through the land of Canaan and kept going to Shechem, to the oak at Moreh. 

It is here, at the Oak of Moreh, that God appears to Abraham!  Verse 7. The Lord appeared to Abram and said, “I give this land to your descendants,” so Abram built an altar there to the Lord who appeared to him. 

What do you think it would be like to have God appear to you? What would God look like? What would God sound like? What else might be happening if God appeared? Would the earth itself react, say, through the weather? Or what about the animals? How would they react? 

It was after God appeared that God then said to Abraham, “I give this land to your descendants.” In response, Abraham built an altar to God here in this place, knowing that the land would belong to his descendants. Now Abram’s altar was probably made of big rocks. 

Next Abraham and his family moved on to the hill country east of Bethel. Let’s read verse eight and see what happened here.  Verse 8. From there he traveled toward the mountains east of Bethel, and pitched his tent with Bethel on the west and Ai on the east. There he built an altar to the Lord and worshipped in the Lord’s name. 

Abraham pitched his tent, so let’s plan to stay for awhile, too. In this place, then, with Bethel on the west and Ai on the east, Abraham built another altar! And, then, after leaving everything familiar behind and moving to this new and unfamiliar place, Abraham worshipped God. 

And our story ends with verse 9:  Then Abram set out toward the arid southern plain, making and breaking camp as he went.

That was quite the journey. Let’s “unpack” it a little bit. 

In our story last week, we heard that this God of Israel was not like all of the other gods. Rather than destroying the entire world, this God chose to preserve life. But God is now on the hook. God needs to show that he truly isn’t like all the other gods. 

And so, God picks a man. Abram. No one special. Just someone who is pretty ordinary. Like you and I. God calls this man to pickup his family and move across an entire country. Leaving everything behind. Knowing that he will probably never see his father or the rest of his family ever again.

It takes some serious trust, doesn’t? For Abraham to do exactly what God calls him to do? I wonder if you and I would be like Abram. Trusting. Never questioning.

I belong to a few closed clergy groups on Facebook. A few days ago a pastor in San Antonio posted in the group. “Help!” she posted. “I’m trying to make a point in my sermon! Can you help me think of people who felt they weren’t worthy. Or aren’t capable of God’s call for them?” Within 30 minutes, there were 40 posts. The first several listed people in Scripture who had resisted God’s call: Amos, David, Mary, Paul, Samuel, Gideon, Isaiah, Jonah, Jacob, Jeremiah…. And, then, someone asked the question, “Did YOU immediately answer God’s call?” What followed then was post after post from pastors saying, “No, I didn’t.” 

How is your journey like Abraham’s? How are his travels similar to the path you have been on with God so far? Maybe they’re not the same. Maybe you’re still resisting. If you are, you’re not alone. But, God selects us in grace, as ordinary as we might be. As resistant as we might be. And God calls us onto a journey. In our baptism, God called and continues to call us. Onto a journey. A journey of trust. A journey of blessing.

Yes, blessing. Because we know this story of Abram. God made a promise with Abram and his barren wife, Sarai. A three-fold promise. Of descendants. Of land. And of blessing. That they would be blessed so that they might be a blessing to others. It was this promise--this covenant--from God that gave them hope.

Trust and blessing. That’s the story of God’s call to Abram and Sarai. Where is God calling you? No matter where, God promises to be with us. It is in those promises, fulfilled in Christ, where we find our hope.

Let us pray: God, thank you for giving each of us a journey and for guiding us on our way. Thank you for blessing us to be a blessing to others. Amen.

Preached Sunday, September 16, 2018, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Pentecost 17
Readings: Matt. 28:19-20; Gen. 12:1-9

The Handmaid's Tale

The child grew, and was weaned; and Abraham made a great feast on the day that Isaac was weaned. But Sarah saw the son of Hagar the Egyptian, whom she had borne to Abraham, playing with her son Isaac. So she said to Abraham, “Cast out this slave woman with her son; for the son of this slave woman shall not inherit along with my son Isaac.” The matter was very distressing to Abraham on account of his son. But God said to Abraham, “Do not be distressed because of the boy and because of your slave woman; whatever Sarah says to you, do as she tells you, for it is through Isaac that offspring shall be named for you. As for the son of the slave woman, I will make a nation of him also, because he is your offspring.” So Abraham rose early in the morning, and took bread and a skin of water, and gave it to Hagar, putting it on her shoulder, along with the child, and sent her away. And she departed, and wandered about in the wilderness of Beer-sheba.

When the water in the skin was gone, she cast the child under one of the bushes. Then she went and sat down opposite him a good way off, about the distance of a bowshot; for she said, “Do not let me look on the death of the child.” And as she sat opposite him, she lifted up her voice and wept. And God heard the voice of the boy; and the angel of God called to Hagar from heaven, and said to her, “What troubles you, Hagar? Do not be afraid; for God has heard the voice of the boy where he is. Come, lift up the boy and hold him fast with your hand, for I will make a great nation of him.” Then God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water. She went, and filled the skin with water, and gave the boy a drink.

God was with the boy, and he grew up; he lived in the wilderness, and became an expert with the bow. He lived in the wilderness of Paran; and his mother got a wife for him from the land of Egypt. Genesis 21:8-21 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Since April, I’ve been a weekly television series on Hulu called The Handmaid’s Tale. Have any of you seen it? Well, it’s based upon a book with the same title written by Margaret Atwood in 1985. 

It’s set in the near future in New England, in a totalitarian theocracy that has overthrown the United States government. Did you hear the word “theocracy” there? This society--this theocracy--is one that is based upon a deeply perverted misreading of the laws and codes of the Old Testament.  The leaders of this culture believe that they are being punished by God for dangerously low reproduction rates. That they have failed to fulfill God’s mandate to be fruitful and multiply.

The story is narrated by Offred, a handmaid. A young woman, fertile and in her prime child-bearing years, who has been assigned to bear children for an elite couple who has trouble conceiving a child. Offred is not her real name. As a handmaid, her name consists of the word “of” followed by the name of her commander, who in this case is Fred. Of-Fred. 

Every month, when she is most fertile, she is required to have impersonal, wordless sex with the Commander while his wife sits behind her, holding her hands. Her freedom, like the freedom of all women, is completely restricted. She can leave the house only on shopping trips. The door to her room cannot be completely shut. And the Eyes, who are the secret police force, watch her every public move.

And, as I’ve been watching it, I’ve been struck by the growing power struggle between the two women--the commander’s handmaid and his wife--to be the one who is most important to the commander.  

It’s a frightening and disturbing story. And it’s similarities to the story today of the power struggle between Hagar and Sarah are just as frightening and disturbing.

That’s really what this is, isn’t it? A power struggle, right? A struggle between two women to gain power in their relationship with Abraham. A struggle between two women whose only power in society comes through their potential to produce an heir.

But, wait a minute. I’m getting a little ahead of myself.

Our story opens today with Isaac, the son of Abraham and Sarah. He has now reached the point in time to be weaned. In our world, this might mean that he was 8-9 months old, perhaps a little older. In the time of our story, he would have been breastfed until he was 2 or 3 years old. Infant mortality rates were very high. That Isaac had reached this point was a big deal. A rite of passage. Reaching this age gave much greater certainty to both Abraham and Sarah that Isaac would live to actually become Abraham’s heir. 

It was cause for celebration. So, that’s just what they did. Our story tells us that Abraham prepared a huge banquet.

It was during this celebration, or perhaps a short time later, that Sarah saw Ishmael laughing. You remember Ishmael, don’t you? He was the first-born of Abraham. The son of Hagar. Hagar, the Egyptian. Sarah’s slave given to Abraham. Given so he could have sex with her to make an heir. Since Sarah was barren and unable to produce one herself.

When Sarah saw Ishmael laughing, she got angry. It’s hard to really know why this made her so angry. Perhaps, seeing Ishmael reminded her of her former barren state. Perhaps, seeing him reminded Sarah of the way in which Hagar had treated her after Ishmael was born. How Hagar, who was able to produce an heir, had shown disrespect to Sarah, her master. 

Or perhaps it’s because when Sarah saw Ishmael, she was reminded that he was still a potential threat to Isaac. To Isaac’s inheritance. In a society where a woman’s entire value was measured by her ability to produce an heir.  In a society where a woman’s only source of power was through her children and, specifically, through her sons. In a society where a woman was completely dependent upon the wealth and inheritance of her husband and her sons. It is no surprise that Sarah viewed Ishmael, and also Hagar, as a potential threats to Isaac and to herself. 

And, so, Sarah goes to Abraham. And she demands that he send her away. That he divorce her. 

Abraham is very distressed by Sarah’s request. That she should ask him to send away his son. (Do you notice that our text says nothing about a concern for Hagar?) 

Yet, God speaks to Abraham. Tells him to comply with Sarah’s request. So, Abraham packs up some bread and a small amount of water and sends Ishmael and Hagar away. Into the desert. Where their water runs out. Where Hagar, who can’t bear to watch her son die, puts him under a tree a distance a way. She can’t watch and, yet, she still hears his cries.

If feels wrong somehow, doesn’t it? That God would side with Sarah in this mess. This big mess. Much of which is Sarah’s own making. It just feels wrong. That the woman who is the slave, the one with even less power than her mistress, the one who complied with Sarah’s wishes. It just feels wrong that she should be sent away. With her son. Who is even more innocent. That they should both be punished. Be cast aside. And that God would go along with it. It just feels wrong, doesn’t it?

How many times has this happened to you? That you’ve been cast aside? Been in a position with no power and been pushed aside? Pushed to the edges of your family? Or your friends? Or pushed to the edges of society? Like the elderly, like the disabled, like the poor, like those who are gay, or undocumented, or those who skin is the wrong color? Or those with the wrong religion or belief system. Cast out. Pushed to the edges. Where it seems as though they’ve been abandoned by family, by friends, by our world. Perhaps, even, by God?

But, this isn’t the end of the story. 

As the first season of the Handmaid’s Tale came to an end, Offred, the handmaid, learned that there were a number of people working quietly, working underground. Resisting. Resisting the the evil theocracy and those who had so devalued women. She begins to understand that this is not the end of the story. 

The desert scene with Hagar and Ishmael also wasn’t the end of the story. We read that God heard Ishmael’s cries. God came to Hagar and took both of them to a well where they might receive sustenance. Where they might receive life-giving water. And, then, God promised them greatness.

God hears you, too. God hears you and I and all those who have been cast aside, all who are on the edges. Broken, beaten down. Wracked by sin and guilt. Hurt by the evil of the world. God hears and comes, too. God takes us to the well and gives us water. Life-giving water. 

And, then, God promises greatness. Greatness that comes through love. Through the loving and life-giving act of Christ on the cross. Through the sanctifying power of the Holy Spirit. 

We are called to this greatness through love. A love we have received through nothing we have done, but solely a result of God’s own love. A love that transforms and changes. A love that hears you and I and leaves no one cast out. 

This is the nature of our God. God leaves no one cast out or alone, left to die. No one.

For this, we praise God in the words of the psalmist today, “You are great! You do wondrous things! You alone are God!

Amen.

Preached June 25, 2017, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.

Third Sunday after Pentecost

Readings: Genesis 21:8-21; Psalm 86:1-10, 16-17; Romans 6:1b-11; Matthew 10:24-39

Divine Comedy

The Lord appeared to Abraham by the oaks of Mamre, as he sat at the entrance of his tent in the heat of the day. He looked up and saw three men standing near him. When he saw them, he ran from the tent entrance to meet them, and bowed down to the ground. He said, “My lord, if I find favor with you, do not pass by your servant. Let a little water be brought, and wash your feet, and rest yourselves under the tree. Let me bring a little bread, that you may refresh yourselves, and after that you may pass on—since you have come to your servant.” So they said, “Do as you have said.” And Abraham hastened into the tent to Sarah, and said, “Make ready quickly three measures of choice flour, knead it, and make cakes.” Abraham ran to the herd, and took a calf, tender and good, and gave it to the servant, who hastened to prepare it. Then he took curds and milk and the calf that he had prepared, and set it before them; and he stood by them under the tree while they ate.

They said to him, “Where is your wife Sarah?” And he said, “There, in the tent.” Then one said, “I will surely return to you in due season, and your wife Sarah shall have a son.” And Sarah was listening at the tent entrance behind him. Now Abraham and Sarah were old, advanced in age; it had ceased to be with Sarah after the manner of women. So Sarah laughed to herself, saying, “After I have grown old, and my husband is old, shall I have pleasure?” The Lord said to Abraham, “Why did Sarah laugh, and say, ‘Shall I indeed bear a child, now that I am old?’ Is anything too wonderful for the Lord? At the set time I will return to you, in due season, and Sarah shall have a son.” But Sarah denied, saying, “I did not laugh”; for she was afraid. He said, “Oh yes, you did laugh.”

The Lord dealt with Sarah as he had said, and the Lord did for Sarah as he had promised. Sarah conceived and bore Abraham a son in his old age, at the time of which God had spoken to him. Abraham gave the name Isaac to his son whom Sarah bore him. And Abraham circumcised his son Isaac when he was eight days old, as God had commanded him. Abraham was a hundred years old when his son Isaac was born to him. Now Sarah said, “God has brought laughter for me; everyone who hears will laugh with me.” And she said, “Who would ever have said to Abraham that Sarah would nurse children? Yet I have borne him a son in his old age.” Genesis 18:1-15; 21:1-7 (NRSV)

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

Welcome to Ordinary Time. Or this liturgical season we also call “Time after Pentecost.” It’s a season we mark with green. Green paraments. Green stoles. Green banners. Green, a color that signifies growth. When lawns are growing. Gardens are growing, Crops are growing.

There’s growth in the church, too.

Our texts from the Gospel of Matthew go on for several weeks to explain to us what discipleship means, how we grow in our faith and how we grow in our response to God’s grace.

In our readings from the Old Testament (or Hebrew scripture) during this Ordinary time, we have two patterns to choose from. The first is a series of texts that are selected to complement the Matthew readings. The second pattern--the one we’ll be following over the next 12 weeks--tell us of the family stories of Abraham. Of God’s call to Abraham and covenant with him. It is these stories that will be the focus of my preaching. And, hopefully, the focus of your further study and thought at home.

We don’t often hear these stories. And so, this is an opportunity for us to dig deep into them. Some of us may have never heard these stories. For others, it may be the first time since childhood. Nevertheless, this is an opportunity for us to learn of Abraham and Sarah, and to see how God worked in their lives and, perhaps, envision how God might work in ours.

So, let’s begin.

Well, almost.

I say that because our story today doesn’t actually start at the beginning of Abraham’s story. Through a quirk in the liturgical season this year, we’ve lost a few chapters of the story.

We’ve missed God’s call to Abraham and his family to move from Ur in Mesopotamia down to Canaan. Seemingly, out of the blue, God calls Abraham to move away from his homeland, away from his family, away from his father’s household. And to make a long journey. Away to a place that is culturally foreign to him.

One of the things I’ve found interesting since moving here is how deep-rooted many families are in this state. Going back for generations. A few weeks ago I was talking to a family at the pantry--the Preston family, of the Preston Plantation in Trimble Co.. This family has lived in Kentucky for generations.

God’s call to Abraham to move from Ur to Canaan would have been like a call for the Preston’s to move from Bedford to Boston, Massachusetts. To a land completely different. Away from their family and their roots. To a place culturally foreign to them.

With God’s call, though, came a promise. A threefold promise. God promised to make of Abraham a great nation. God promised that Abraham’s name would be respected for generations. And God promised to bless him so that he could be a blessing to all the families of the earth.

And, so, they set out. Abraham, Sarah, and Lot, Abraham’s nephew. Eventually, they made it to Canaan. At first, they didn’t settle down. They lived a rather nomadic life, moving down to Egypt, then up to southern Canaan, and a few more places in between. And, also, in between, Abraham and Lot decided to go their separate ways.

After a while, Abraham and Sarah arrived in Hebron. It was there, in Hebron, located between the Dead Sea and the Mediterranean, that they settled. In Canaan. Near--as our story reads--near the “oaks of Mamre.”

Time passed. Abraham and Sarah were getting on in years. And still, no children. The promise from God that they were the beginning of a great nation hung over them. So, they decided to take things into their own hands.

We have a tendency as human beings to do that, don’t we? We become impatient. Or we seek to control our circumstances. Or even to control God and God’s promises.

Abraham and Sarah were no different that we. They developed a plan. Abraham decided that his chief servant, his head of household, would become his heir.

God’s response? “No, I don’t think so. That’s not what I promised you, Abraham. I promised you that you would have a son. A blood heir. And from this blood relative, I promised you would become a great people.”

So, Abraham and Sarah developed a second plan. Sarah offered her maid-servant, Hagar, to Abraham, so that Abraham could have a son who was of his own flesh and blood. And, that worked. For a moment.

Until God, once again, said, “No. This isn’t my plan for you. My plan is that you will have a son with Sarah.” Then, God renewed the covenant with Abraham. Promising, once again, that Abraham would be the father of nations. And calling for a visible mark, a reminder of this promise, upon every male in Abraham’s household.

Abraham’s response? Well, to the men in this room, if God came to you at age 99 and said you would be the father of many nations, what would your response be?
Yes. Abraham laughed. He was no different. Yet, even in the midst of his own doubt and cynicism, and the ridiculousness of God’s plan, he went along with it. And, he, along with all of the men in his household, was circumcised.
And Abraham and Sarah, once again, waited.

It is here, finally, that today’s story picks up. It open with the sentence, “The Lord appeared to Abraham at the oaks of Mamre while he sat at the entrance of his tent in the day’s heat.” In reading this, we know that God appeared to Abraham. Abraham, however, didn’t. At least, not initially.

What Abraham experienced that day, as he was sitting in his tent to get away from the heat of the day, three men approached him. He sees them and immediately runs to them to invite them in. Do you notice that Abraham goes out to them?

Then, Abraham shows deep hospitality to them.  It’s similar to the hospitality that I’ve experienced myself, both in Texas and here.

He brings his guests to the shade of the nearby trees. He brings them water to wash their feet and to drink and refresh themselves. And then he really opens the hospitality floodgates. He tells Sarah to prepare bread. And this isn’t any small amount. According to our story, he tells her to get 23 quarts of flour and make bread out of it. (That’s close to 25 loaves of bread.) And he tells his servant to kill one of the calves and to cook it.

Abraham then serves a sumptuous feast of veal and bread and butter and milk, and I’m sure there probably was a little wine in there, too.  It was amazing hospitality!

As they are eating, these three strangers reveal the purpose of their visit. It’s to announce that within the next year, Sarah, at around age 99, and Abraham, at around age 100, will have a child. A boy, named Isaac.

Now, Sarah, has not been present at this meal. She is not allowed there culturally. But, like any good wife, she’s listening in. And when she hears this announcement, she, like Abraham, laughs.

I put this proposition out to the WISE group on Thursday. I asked them how they might respond if God came to them and said that, at age 90 (I knocked down ten years!), they would get pregnant and give birth to a child.

They, laughed, too. Just like Sarah.

We are not that different from Abraham and Sarah. God promises these amazing things from inconceivable people and places and we laugh. Maybe it’s doubt. Maybe it’s cynicism. Maybe it’s because so often we make all of these great plans and everything just seems to fall apart.

But, it is there. In the midst of our cynicism. And our doubt. And our failed plans. And our laughter. It is there, that God steps in. Like some great divine comedy. God steps in and turns it all around to accomplish God’s purpose. Just like Abraham and Sarah. Just like us.


And, that, my friends, in this ordinary time, is anything but ordinary. Amen.

Preached June 18, 2017, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
2nd Sunday after Pentecost
Readings: Genesis 18:1-15, 21:1-7; Psalm 116:1-2, 12-19; Romans 5:1-8; Matthew 9:35-10:8.