April 10th, 2016 The
Call
Scripture: Genesis 12: 1-9
Today we
begin a new sermon series on the Adventures of Abraham, a man who seems like a
distant, historical, transcendent figure, but a man who shares much more in
common with us than we might think.
This past weekend I had the
privilege of spending a time on grounds that hold a special place in my heart-
Cherry Run Camp. Cherry Run has become
one of my favorite places because I’ve watched God do new things in people’s
lives. I’ve watched God infuse hope into
hopeless situations, heal those who were physically, mentally and emotionally
drained, and transform people who didn’t think they needed any transformation. And it happened again this weekend. During one of the services, our speaker
invited the youth to leave behind their lives – good as they might be- and to
be reclaimed and redefined by the grace and power of Jesus Christ. The old
altar call. And one by one, this group of
teenagers began to respond, taking the first steps on a on the greatest journey
they will ever take in their lives!
When I see a person, young or old,
respond to God’s invitation, I can’t help but think of Abraham. Abraham’s story
is this type of story. Maybe that’s why
I’m so drawn to it. It’s a story about a man who, just like these teenagers at
Cherry Run, was invited by God to step into an adventure that would redefine
his life. Long before Jesus walked along
the shores of the sea of Galilee, calling men and women to follow and be his
disciples, God called a man named Abraham to follow, to be a sort of “disciple”
and to counter-culturally reorient his life around a deep faith in God. And Abraham responded, becoming a model of
faith for all who yearn to walk with God in holiness. It’s for this reason that we need to hear
once again Abraham’s story. Because this
story isn’t just Abraham’s story. It’s
our story. And in many ways, this call
that God places on Abraham’s life is not so different from the call God places
on our lives.
My guess is that when we hear
Abraham’s name, we think of someone who is larger than life, someone whose
standard of faith and holiness we hope we can live up to, but doubt we ever
could. Three major religions trace their roots back to Abraham- Christianity,
Judaism and Islam- so it’s obvious that Abraham’s life has influenced millions
of people throughout the ages. But Abraham’s
story didn’t begin as a larger than life story.
In fact, Abraham was a pretty average guy. In an earlier passage of Scripture, we
discover that Abraham is more appropriately described as just “another name” in
his father’s family tree. He had a mom
and a dad, two brothers, a wife named Sara.
It was a fairly average life.
There’s nothing about Abraham’s life that suggests he is bound to do
great things, nothing that jumps out of the pages that would lead us to believe
that he is more heroic or talented than anyone else. But there is one interesting fact about
Abraham’s life that gives us reason to pause:
He doesn’t have any children. And this proves to be a not-so-small detail that
greatly impacts this story, one that should not be overlooked.
In the ancient world, when
reproductive knowledge and biological information was not readily available,
fertility was viewed a sign of God’s blessing, proof that God looked upon you
with favor. Children were an inheritance
from God, and childbirth was the natural way of continuing a family
heritage. God’s plan, from the
beginning, was for humanity to “be fruitful and multiply,” (the first
commandment we have in Scripture) thus extending God’s life-giving blessing
from generation to generation. For the first 11 chapters of Genesis, this is exactly how life plays out. But that
blessing has mysteriously ceased with Abraham and Sarah. For no particular reasons, Abraham and Sarah find
themselves in hopeless situation: they
are unable to fulfill God’s original plan. They can’t live up to God’s first
commandment. What has happened so naturally for previous generations, what has
been normal and anticipated for so many others, has become for Abraham and Sarah
a dark, unexplainable reality. They are barren.
They are fruitless. And they have
no idea why.
Although it’s a theme we don’t care
to bring up too often and would much rather ignore, barrenness is a common theme in Scripture. It’s common because barren
situations are the places where God’s redeeming work begins to take root, where
God’s desire to do a new thing is conceived. It was in the dark and hopeless chains
of Egyptian slavery that God began to lead Israel into the Promised Land. And it was in a dark and hopeless grave where
a messiah lay dead that God began to resurrect and overcome the power of death
and sin. And so it’s no coincidence that
all great stories of God’s invitation to new life begin in dark, barren and
hopeless situations. When we find ourselves in dark situations, we should begin
to look for signs of life and signs of God’s activity. But barrenness is a
powerful, seductive force in our lives that causes us to dig in our heels and
settle for what we do have, so that
we don’t lose anything else. Remember
the story of the Israelites in the wilderness?
They were in a barren land,
without food and water, and they grew angry with God. Despite the promise of a new land of freedom,
the only reality they could see was a hopeless one, one where they were not in
control. And their desire? To go back to Egypt and settle, to settle
once again as foreigners in a land and as prisoners to a people not their own,
because at least in Egypt they had food, shelter and employment.
It’s important to know that God’s
call to Abraham, the simple word “Go” is in stark contrast to the concept of settling, which we might find to be
quite unsettling. To a God who is
seemingly always on the move, settling is not a value that is frequently
paraded and adorned. To be rooted, is one thing, and to become rooted is a fruit of deep faith, but to settle is another conversation. Out of his barrenness, Abraham
settled for life as he knew it, and by most accounts, his settled life was pretty
fulfilling. We know that Abraham didn’t
lack for much. Save for the inability to conceive children, Abraham had just
about everything else most human beings long to have. He had great wealth and a loving and
supportive spouse. He had a great career and the resources to ensure economic
success. And he had the security of his
extended family and a country he felt comfortable calling home. What more could a person want? And yet God was calling Abraham out of that settled
life.
I think this is a good moment to pause and ask some questions that might challenge us and tug at our core. Why is that God would ask Abraham to leave
what you and I (and most Americans) most deeply value? I mean, is there
anything we value more than our families, our country, our employment, or our
traditions? These are the things we live for! These are cherished topics that
frequent our conversations, dominate our politics and influence us in more ways
than we care to admit. And I would
venture to say that if your resume includes these line items, you would
describe your life as happy, contented and satisfied. But here are the questions we must wrestle with: Is this the adventure to which we have been
called? Is this the life Jesus died to give us?
Not long ago, a movie called “The
Hobbit” was released in theaters. In the
movie, the main character, Bilbo Baggins is invited to go on an adventure. The only thing is, he doesn’t want one. Bilbo’s life contains all he ever
wanted. He spends his days in the Shire,
which is full of lush vegetation and peace.
He has the most wonderful neighbors and never misses any of his 7 meals
a day. But one day Bilbo is visited by a
divine-like wizard named Gandalf, who has witnessed what Bilbo has never
experienced, because Bilbo has never stepped out in faith. And Gandalf invites Bilbo to travel with him
on a journey that will forever change this hobbit and the way he views the
world. But Bilbo is in no hurry to
follow, as his initial response makes clear:
“We are plain quiet folk and have
no use for adventures. Nasty,
uncomfortable things. Make you late for
dinner! I can’t see what anybody sees in
them. Good morning! We don’t want any
adventures here, thank you! “ If you
know the story, you know that eventually Bilbo throws up his hands, runs out
the door and jumps into the adventure. He
simply cannot ignore the life he could have.
God’s call to Abraham is pretty
simple. Go. Go from your kindred, your country and your
father’s house to the land that I will show you. And I will make you a great
nation and I will bless you. This
isn’t a call to do something great that will go down in history. Nor is it a call to go to a third world
country and fight wild beasts and learn a new language. This is a simple call to trust God to be God and
to obey his will. This is a radical call to fully surrender our lives to God’s
goodness and God’s plans. And
that’s the greatest adventure we could ever take. To leave behind all he has ever known is for
Abraham an invitation to let God be God- not just to believe in God but to
evidence that belief in practice and obedience.
Abraham had every reason to say no.
He already had a good life, a settled life. Plus, God didn’t tell him what the land would
look like, when he would arrive or what shape the blessings would take. He simply offered an invitation to Go. And
Abraham doesn’t think twice. The text simply but powerful say, “He went.” That’s faith.
That’s discipleship.
You have been called into a great
adventure known as discipleship. It’s the call offered to Abraham. It’s the
call offered to Peter. And It’s the call
offered to you. But it’s an adventure full
of risk, one that no longer trusts your heart to show you they way, but chooses
instead to trust God’s heart. “To stay in safety”, says theologian
Walter Brueggemann, “is to remain barren. To
leave in risk is to have hope.”[1]
I’ve been thinking a lot this week
about the kids who made their way to an altar at a retreat at Cherry Run. There
were no promises that life back home would get better, no guarantees that their
situations would automatically change. There was only hope. Hope that this God
who says “Go” and “Come” and “Do” and “Be” would meet them in their barrenness,
give them new life and will always be there for them as Savior and
Provider. And for those teenagers, that
risk of losing the only life they’ve even known was a risk worth taking. What
about you? Remember, old Abraham was 75
when God called him! When God says, “Go. Leave your kindred, your country, your
father’s house, leave your well-constructed life and follow me,” will you stay or will you go? Amen.
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