Proper 7 (A) + Hagar's hope + 6.22.14
M. Campbell-Langdell
All Santos, Oxnard
(Genesis 21:8-21; Ps. 86:1-10, 16-17; Romans 6:1b-11;
Matthew 10:24-39)
I remember it well. As a young adult, in college, I went on a
Jewish studies trip that included visiting a synagogue in Vienna, Austria. As
we approached the house of worship for the Jews of the area, the exterior
appeared the same of any other fairly nice building in town, nothing to
distinguish it from the crowd. But as soon as we entered, we were greeted with
a metal detector, placed there so that anyone coming in to visit or worship
would first be screened for more violent motives. Once inside, our eyes were
raised to the ceiling, the most distinctive feature of the space, which
depicted myriad stars. The rabbi told us how those were to depict the stars
that God showed Abraham, promising him descendants as many as the stars.
This past Monday night, Pastor Alene and I were on a short,
over-night camping trip to Santa Cruz Island and once it fell dark we wandered
outside to see the stars. Ah, so gorgeous, far from the city lights. So many
that it becomes hard to pick out constellations because you are just
overwhelmed by the number. You begin just to look for shooting stars, or
meteors flashing through the pan of our vision.
We are a part of this promise, too. And so was Hagar and so
was Ishmael.
I back up in the narrative of today’s reading from the book
of Genesis because, visiting Abraham and Sarah and Isaac, Hagar and Ishmael at
this point, we may not recall all the details. Abraham and Sarah, the mother
and father of what we now call the Abrahamic faiths of Christianity, Judaism
and Islam, got to be quite elderly and about gave up on progeny. Now, they
didn’t know that God was going to surprise them with a promise of a child of
their own, so Sarah thought that asking Hagar, their servant, to carry on the
family line with Abraham was the best they could do. As in many cases, we can
see that when we come up with a solution of our own rather than wait for God’s
wisdom, things get messy.
Well, Hagar was a slave, and she may not have had family nearby because of that, and so for her this was a smart move to be a sort of second-tier wife for Abraham. The position afforded protection, or so she thought. And so Abraham thought, too.
Well, Hagar was a slave, and she may not have had family nearby because of that, and so for her this was a smart move to be a sort of second-tier wife for Abraham. The position afforded protection, or so she thought. And so Abraham thought, too.
But then the amazing miracle of Isaac’s birth occurs, the
miracle that God tells Sarah about through messengers earlier in Genesis, and
to which at first she just laughs, in wonder or disbelief. Isaac, in fact,
means “laughter” or “play.” [1] And so the day comes when Sarah
begins to realize that Ishmael, Hagar’s son with Abraham, and Isaac, her son
with Abraham, may end up duking it out for inheritance rights. One is the first
born, the other the truly legitimate heir. And what drives this home to her,
interestingly, is the fact that Ishmael does an Isaac. You see, she sees
Ishmael playing “or Isaac-ing” with Isaac, and she begins to see that though
they are just playing now, they may compete in a real way later. Her concerns
may be valid, even if they seem callous.
So she wants to cast Hagar and Ishmael out, and at first
Abraham is not having it. It is not in his nature, being the big granddaddy of
everyone, to cast someone out of the nest, especially a vulnerable woman and
child into the wilderness (Ishmael may be a teen at this point, depending on
how you read it, but he is still considered vulnerable here). But God says, “I’ve got this.”
The way that God tells Abraham to put it in his hands rather than continue to take responsibility for Hagar here reminds me of something I heard once. One chaplaincy intern I knew had been a waitress in the past, and she had begun to learn when she was called to help in a situation, and when something was not hers to deal with. And when she was not feeling called to help in a situation, she said “that’s not my table.”
In a way, God is saying “Abraham, that’s not your table. Sit down and make peace with your wife instead, and focus on your son; the rest of your lineage.” And this is what he does.
But can you imagine being Hagar? Who knows how communicative Abraham was? Here she is, thinking she is perhaps on the outs with Sarah but at least protected, having borne her master’s son, and instead she is cast out into the desert, and without many provisions. Now, let me paint a picture of the desert here. This is not a long stretch of highway with a casino down the road with questionable characters but at least a bathroom and a drinking fountain. No, this is wild-er-ness. This is “desolate, no people out here, might as well lie down and die” territory. And she about did. She must have felt utterly alone.
We’ve all been there. We haven’t yet heard the promise of God’s provision in our lives, of God’s care for us, and we all have a moment wherein we are about ready to lay down and give in to the awfulness of the situation.
The way that God tells Abraham to put it in his hands rather than continue to take responsibility for Hagar here reminds me of something I heard once. One chaplaincy intern I knew had been a waitress in the past, and she had begun to learn when she was called to help in a situation, and when something was not hers to deal with. And when she was not feeling called to help in a situation, she said “that’s not my table.”
In a way, God is saying “Abraham, that’s not your table. Sit down and make peace with your wife instead, and focus on your son; the rest of your lineage.” And this is what he does.
But can you imagine being Hagar? Who knows how communicative Abraham was? Here she is, thinking she is perhaps on the outs with Sarah but at least protected, having borne her master’s son, and instead she is cast out into the desert, and without many provisions. Now, let me paint a picture of the desert here. This is not a long stretch of highway with a casino down the road with questionable characters but at least a bathroom and a drinking fountain. No, this is wild-er-ness. This is “desolate, no people out here, might as well lie down and die” territory. And she about did. She must have felt utterly alone.
We’ve all been there. We haven’t yet heard the promise of God’s provision in our lives, of God’s care for us, and we all have a moment wherein we are about ready to lay down and give in to the awfulness of the situation.
But then she hears it, and if we listen, we will hear it too.
Ishmael is calling out, and Ishmael means “God heard.” [2]And
God did hear, and does hear us now. An angel of God tells Hagar not to be
afraid. Be not afraid. It is an echoing refrain all throughout scripture, and it
is so hard to heed. It appears again even in today’s bracing yet somehow
hopeful and abrasive gospel. Don’t fear. Fear not.
And God does intervene, and does save Hagar and her son, her legacy, her most loved one. “Come, lift up the boy and hold him fast with your hand, for I will make a great nation of him.” God has plans for them both. They may not remain a part of the chosen people, but they are still a part of the larger promise for all God’s creation. Hagar’s eyes are opened to see a well, and something new begins.
God sometimes reaches us and redeems us and even starts a whole new life for us exactly in those times when we are most lost, most afraid, when things look the bleakest. This is the promise for Hagar, for Ishmael, and for us.
And God does intervene, and does save Hagar and her son, her legacy, her most loved one. “Come, lift up the boy and hold him fast with your hand, for I will make a great nation of him.” God has plans for them both. They may not remain a part of the chosen people, but they are still a part of the larger promise for all God’s creation. Hagar’s eyes are opened to see a well, and something new begins.
God sometimes reaches us and redeems us and even starts a whole new life for us exactly in those times when we are most lost, most afraid, when things look the bleakest. This is the promise for Hagar, for Ishmael, and for us.
But we must remember a couple of things. One is that we will
still face hardships. There was a metal detector in that synagogue, we are
praying for peace in Iraq right now, and Hagar and Ishmael did have to be cast
out of everything that was safe, that was home. Jesus says that following him
may include hardships; times that feel more like war than his deep peace that
we strive to know and love so well. But God made a great nation of Ishmael and we
are a part of Hagar’s and Ishmael’s family too. Because in Christ all were brought
together, both the chosen people and those who had been outside of the
covenant. We are all made a new creation in the new covenant.
But Hagar had to be willing to acknowledge the angel of God, to trust enough to let her eyes be opened to the salvation that was the well, the water that would give life to Ishmael and to her. Even and especially when life hits a rough spot, we have to be willing to heed God’s messengers who bring words of hope and can lift our eyes to the water of baptism, the well of our salvation.
When we trust, God does provide. I see this in so many ways. Just this week I was feeling very busy with preparing for the confirmations, the blessed events of yesterday, when I was asked to provide a bed for someone, and felt God call me to do so with our discretionary fund. But how would I do so? I remembered a mattress store in Ventura where Alene and I had purchased our own bed, a place where we met a man of deep faith. I called and they were willing to do me an amazing deal that we would afford exactly the funds we had and even deliver the bed for free. Praise God!
The recipient wanted to bless us or them with money, but I said this is God’s blessing, you have to use it that way, as your well of water, as the boost you need to build a new life. We are, or encounter, “Hagars” every day. Sometimes we are just blessed enough to see God’s hand at work in our lives and in those of others.
But Hagar had to be willing to acknowledge the angel of God, to trust enough to let her eyes be opened to the salvation that was the well, the water that would give life to Ishmael and to her. Even and especially when life hits a rough spot, we have to be willing to heed God’s messengers who bring words of hope and can lift our eyes to the water of baptism, the well of our salvation.
When we trust, God does provide. I see this in so many ways. Just this week I was feeling very busy with preparing for the confirmations, the blessed events of yesterday, when I was asked to provide a bed for someone, and felt God call me to do so with our discretionary fund. But how would I do so? I remembered a mattress store in Ventura where Alene and I had purchased our own bed, a place where we met a man of deep faith. I called and they were willing to do me an amazing deal that we would afford exactly the funds we had and even deliver the bed for free. Praise God!
The recipient wanted to bless us or them with money, but I said this is God’s blessing, you have to use it that way, as your well of water, as the boost you need to build a new life. We are, or encounter, “Hagars” every day. Sometimes we are just blessed enough to see God’s hand at work in our lives and in those of others.
So, be not afraid. When you are in a hard moment, or perceive
someone who is, trust in God’s direction. Discern whether this is “your table,”
and look for direction, even if it seems inconvenient or hard. If you are
called to help or to be helped, God will make a way. We will face hardships,
but God is working in our lives and the more we give ourselves over to God’s
guidance, the better, the saner, the happier our lives will be.
Thanks be to God!
Thanks be to God!
[1] Kathryn
Schifferdecker, “Commentary on Genesis 21:8-21,” http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2137.
[2]
Ibid.
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