Romans
4, Genesis 17 Lent 2B Rev. Kristine Light Branaman
UniPlace
Christian Church, Champaign IL
March 4, 2012
Treasure Eternal Promises
Treasure Eternal Promises. That has been the
theme of our devotions for this second week of Lent, a theme addressed in both
the Old Testament and New Testament scripture readings we’ve heard this
morning. Both Genesis and Romans refer
to father Abraham, revered in Christianity, Judaism and Islam as a model for
true faith. Abraham, says the Apostle
Paul, did not “waver concerning the promise
of God, but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, 21 being fully
convinced that God was able to do what he had promised.”
That is a mouthful. To be “unwavering concerning the promise of
God, growing strong in faith, giving glory to God, being fully convinced that
God is able to do what God has promised.” How many of us can make a claim like that?
We live in an age of change and uncertainty.
People ask questions: about life’s purpose and meaning, about religion and
values, about cultural diversity and preserving a sense of tradition. Soundbites
broadcast daily on radio, TV and internet remind us of conflicting lifestyles and
viewpoints, and inflammatory statements, like those of Limbaugh and Santorum
which filled the news this week, are too often hurtful, inappropriate and
intolerant. It can certainly leave our faith in humankind wavering, can’t
it?
Just after the First World War, when the
entire western world was reeling from tremendous loss of life and enduring
hardship, the English poet William Butler Yeats wrote a piece called “The
Second Coming”. Not to be confused with Tim LaHaye’s “Left Behind” saga, the poem
was a prophetic piece about approaching anarchy on the global stage.
In that poem Yeats uses the phrase; “things
fall apart, the centre cannot hold”. Yeats writes about how all around him,
certainties upon which people had built their lives were crumbling and falling
to bits. He senses that the culture is disintegrating beyond repair and that it
no longer has a stable center.
What he prophetically saw from within his own
time we see clearly on the other side of it … this climate of confusion, anger,
disappointment and grief allowed for the rise of the Third Reich. Hitler’s madness was perfectly suited to a
people desperate both for answers and somebody to blame after they had lost
faith in previously stable institutions. Latching on greedily to a leader who
would stoke the embers of fear and prejudice, a nation consented to unthinkable
atrocities which erupted very shortly after into the flames of World War II.
But – enough of European History – what about
this Abraham character, and why does a retired Pharisee like the Apostle Paul
bring him up to young Christians in the imperial city of Rome at the dawn of a
new era?
Not unlike the people of Yeats’ generation,
the Romans Paul addresses were living in one of those times where stability was
waning and seismic global shifts were detectable. Yes, the Roman Empire would
hang on to power for several more centuries, but it would be battling to do so
not only with swords and chariots, but also with the weapons of rhetoric,
suspicion, and scapegoating. People in these
young churches throughout the empire, including those right under the nose of
Ceasar in Rome, lived in fear of persecution, experienced prejudice and
shunning, and suffered economically from their low social position. Ostracized from previous systems like family
networks and professional guilds, whether Jew or Greek, they too lived in a
time where the center did not seem to be holding.
So how could they nurture faith?
The Apostle Paul offers up the example of
Abraham who centered
his life and his faith
on a covenant
God struck with him when he was 99 years old.
At a time in life when most of us assume our contributions to the world
are behind us, Abraham (or as he was called before this covenant, Abram)
believed he was chosen, uniquely called, to a purpose far greater than anything
he had accomplished in his youth.
Abram shared an intimacy with God, in fact on
multiple occasions he experienced visions or theophonies where he perceived God
right there with him, directing his life.
When we get to the story relayed in Genesis 17 where the elderly couple
are promised a child it isn’t a voice in Abram’s head telling him this, he
experiences God in a very real and present way, and so does Sarai. Abram knows that God isn’t calling them
because no one else could possibly do the job. They are chosen for this, in spite of their age and social
status, because God knows Abram is committed to this intimate
relationship.
Although they are old, although the promise
of descendants and land seems impossible, they set out together in pursuit of
the promise. It is this tenacity of faith in a climate of great risk that marks
their story. Instead of pursuing security, sameness, and conserving what they
have accumulated , they strike out in
pursuit of new promises from God.
What about us? In church circles, where we
should know better, we often mark our life together by an atmosphere of caution
rather than confidence, risk aversion rather than promise seeking. We look to
worldly standards of success to gauge how we are doing rather than looking for
that intimate presence of God to direct our path. We ask the same questions in church that we
ask at a business meeting at work: How big are our revenues? How many customers
are we engaging? Which of our programs are most attractive? How can we cut costs?
In a book called “The Cynical Society”,
Jeffrey Goldfarb comments that we believe “that if something is profitable it
is true, real and good; if it is not, then it is without true meaning”. The poet Wendell Berry in his poem Manifesto:
The Mad Farmer Liberation Front calls us to challenge that worldly thinking
saying:
So,
friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Further
on in the same poem is that great line which speaks of looking toward promises
that have nothing to do with benefits we reap for ourselves: Plant sequoias.
When Paul started new churches and then wrote
to them in the following years with advice and counsel, he was clearly more
concerned about their growth in righteousness through faith than their economic
or numerical growth as a congregation. What Paul would tell us today is that
even if we had the fanciest church in Champaign, the biggest membership, the
greatest choir, the fastest growth in our membership roll, we could still be the
least faithful church in Illinois. None
of those measures are sequoias. The measurements offered to us by the world to
judge our health as God’s people are inadequate
in reporting to us the state of our righteousness through faith. And that is the planting which demands our
attention.
It is significant that when Jesus set about
changing the world He did so by nurturing the lives of a small group. As that
small group nurtured other small groups, so the message spread. The crowds?
Well the crowds were fickle, sensation-seeking and shallow. Just remember how
often Jesus withdrew from them or sent them away in order to concentrate on
nurturing His disciples. And yet we are
obsessed in our churches with a desire to draw a good crowd.
The story of Abraham and Sarah challenges us
to consider how our faith community will nurture and promote the kind of
intimacy with God that made a holy covenant possible for that ancient pair.
A meaningful life of faith requires active
participation from each one of us. Real growth in our righteousness through
faith will not come through trends tracked, fads followed or by throwing around
the latest buzz words. Those strategies
do not hold up when the hard times come. If we build our lives on things that
fall apart -- that rust and moth consume and thieves break in and steal -- it
is impossible to maintain a consistent faith.
But if we can be more like Abraham and Sarah
…
If we seek intimacy with and respond
positively to the initiative of God.
If we believe that God still calls us for a
meaningful purpose, regardless of age.
If we concentrate on the journey before us
rather than the possessions of our past.
If we allow God to change us so much we even
need new names …
Then, yes, our active response to God’s intrusion
and disruption in our lives may ironically provide the stability to our faith
--
that gives us a center
that holds.
.JPG)
.jpg)
