8 August 2010

Genesis 15:1-6
Psalm 33:12-22
Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16
Luke 12:32-40

“How odd of God/To choose the Jews.” So goes a couplet by the late British Journalist William Norman Ewer. Though sometimes taken to be anti-Semitic, it does express a truth about God – that our God is indeed odd. Ewer could just as well have said, “How odd of God/To choose Abraham,” And while the sound of that goes nowhere, it is indeed terribly, terrifically odd for God to choose Abraham to be the ancestor of all people of faith. Just listen to the story.

Once upon a time there was a nobody named Abram – or Abraham as he would later go by. There was nothing whatsoever that was noteworthy about Abram. Nothing. Nada. Bupkis. Nichts. But God, for some unfathomable reason comes to Abram and directs this Mr. Nobody to travel to a land that God promises Abram will someday belong to him and his descents forever. And Abram, quite obviously a bit of a nut job, actually trusts in this promise and so he pulls up stakes and goes with his wife and all his extended family to the land of Canaan. Nice place? Well, not really. There was a famine going on; the wife and the rest of the relatives were not impressed. So Abe and crew pick up stakes again and head off, lock, stock, and barrel for Egypt. But as they get close, Abe’s behavior reveals a serious character flaw – he’s a sniveling, unprincipled coward. You see, his wife, Sarai, later to go by Sarah, is drop dead gorgeous, and Abe’s afraid that when the Egyptians find out that this beautiful woman is his wife – well, someone will surely want to kill him and abscond with her. So – he passes Sarai off as his sister and ends up selling her to Pharaoh for a whole lot of sheep, oxen, male donkeys, male and female slaves, female donkeys, and camels. One thing leads to another, and Pharaoh finds out that Sarai is really Abram’s wife, and so Pharaoh gives her back, and then he kicks the whole bunch of trouble-makers out of the country meanwhile letting Abram have all the sheep, oxen, male donkeys, male and female slaves, female donkeys, and camels. Cowardly, sleezy Abram makes out like the proverbial thief he is.

Now, in light of this development, you’d suppose that a right-thinking god would be all too happy to ditch low-life Abram. But no-o-o-o-o-o-o, not our God. Our God comes back to Abram – and promises Abram again that God will give him a homeland and Abram’s descendants shall be many indeed. So, actually believing in a God so loony as to stay true to a Promise made to someone like him, Abram treks off to Canaan once more – and in the process all sorts of nasty stuff ensues, enough to make anyone give up on this God and this God’s crazy Promise. And so God comes again to Abram with reassurance – and this is the part of the story we heard the Deacon read this morning – God comes to Abram and says, “I know things are a mess, but do not be afraid, Abram,” and then God again repeats the Promise. But just as God suspected, Abram’s starting to waver a bit – so God takes Abram out under the night sky, says, “See all these stars – so many you couldn’t count ‘em even if you knew how. So shall your descendants be.” And Abram, being the fool he is, once more trusts God and God’s Promise. And then after this, a whole bunch of crazy stuff happens again to Abram and his wife Sarai – but still no land and still no direct offspring.

By this time Abram and Sarai are up there in years – and once again God comes to Abram and once more repeats the Promise – and in honor of the Promise God renames the elderly couple Abraham and Sarah. Abraham, being a hundred years old at this point is once-more beginning to wonder. And so again, God repeats the Promise. Abraham this time gets a fit of the giggles, falls down punch-drunk and says, “No way are a man a hundred-years-old and his ninety-year-old wife going to have a child.” And once again – you guessed it – God repeats the Promise. And still giggling and gasping for breath foolish Abraham takes God at God’s word.

Again, just like in real life, some more bad stuff happens, and in the midst of it Abraham once again shows what a feckless character he really and truly is. This time, Abraham, Sarah, and the whole bunch have journeyed to the Negev, down by Egypt. And once again filled with fear, Abraham tells the King of Gerar that Sarah is his sister and Sarah cooperates and says Abraham is her brother, same old routine as before. Apparently even at ninety, Sarah is still a looker (Oil of Olay or what?) so the King takes Sarah as his wife. The King, however, finds out the truth, gets mad as hell, comes to Abraham, and screams, “What were you thinking that you did this thing?” Abraham snivels for a while, dredging up every weak excuse he can find, “Technically,” he whines, “she is my sister . . . well, maybe my half-sister. OK, my cousin, twice removed on my father’s side. Or something. Besides, it was God that made me wander down here. It’s God’s fault. Yeah – that’s it! It’s all God’s fault.” And once again, Abraham makes out like a bandit and gets a whole bunch of sheep, oxen, and all the rest.

Now, if I were God – at this point there would be a whole lot of smiting goin’ on. Abraham is bad news, and if his descendants are going to be anything like him, it’s time to take back the Promise and get rid of the whole trashy lot. But not our God. No-o-o-o way. And the next thing we hear – a son actually is born to this old coot that’s good as dead and his ancient wife way, way, way past the biological possibility of bearing a child. Even though Abraham was a total reprobate, God remained true – overlooking Abraham’s dubious moral character – and even goes so far as to proclaim Abraham, of all people, righteous – and just because the guy was foolish enough to trust God. But if you want the truth, Abraham’s trust, Abraham’s foolish faith – that was all God’s doing too – God kept repeating and repeating and repeating and repeating – same thing over and over and over again – because given all the craziness of life, given all the empirical evidence that the Promise could or would never be fulfilled, no way could Abraham ever trust God’s Promise on his own. Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen – and so the Promise has to be repeated, day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year. Which is why after a while, sermons all sound the same – the only way we’re going to trust God’s Promise to us is by hearing it over and over and over and over, because all the evidence says this whole thing is a bunch of hooey.

So once more God’s Promise in today’s Gospel – for you: God is coming to throw all of you, God’s most unworthy servants, the greatest party of all time, one that’s going to go on beyond all our notions of time – and with God as the host and God doing all the work – so wake up, get ready, put on your party clothes, light the lights, and start the music. And don’t be afraid little flock – there’s nothing you need to bring – it’s not one of those church basement pot-lucks. God will supply everything you need so sell everything you’ve got, give it all away – even though no one knows exactly when the party’s going to start. All you have to do to be a part of it is . . . . be a fool and trust God’s Promise – God’s Promise to you and to all people. And so that you can be a trusting fool – Christ here this day, God’s body broken, God’s blood poured out, a pledge and foretaste of the feast to come – and all are welcome – we’re all children of Abraham – probably in way more ways than one, if you know what I mean.

And just one more thing – in Hebrew, the word for “holy” is kadosh – and it means “odd, peculiar, eccentric” – which is why we sing each week, “Holy, Holy, Holy Lord, God of power and might.” Our God – odd, odd, odd. How odd of God to choose the Jews, Abraham, me, and all of yous.