Reflection on Genesis 17: 1-7, 15-16

 

For the next few weeks we will be deviling deeply into the roots of our faith.  What are the nutrients of our faith?  What is the rich soil out of which our faith grows?  What fertilizer makes our faith rich and revives us once again.  What streams of underground water do our roots of faith tap in order to give us life? 

Do I seem to be a little overabundant in the root and soil metaphors this morning? 

Maybe, it is the spring-like weather from this week.  It really was nice! 

Maybe, it is because I discovered this week at the dentist that one of my teeth has squid roots?  That is a tooth with four roots rather than two.  I know, that was vital information that you all needed to know. 

Maybe, it is because it is Lent and during Lent we hope that God will speak to us in a deep way and turn us to be more faithful and more deeply connected?  It is probably that.  After-all, plants that have deep roots which spread wide are the plants that can weather high winds and find nutrients in times of drought. 

This week, in one of the first stories of the Bible, we read about Abraham and the root of faith that we call a “covenant” or as I like to put it: a “promise.”

Promises are so fundamental to life.  When Ember was first born, my soul was so filled with joy and love for that tiny, helpless, little baby girl, that I was driven to make a promise, “No matter what,” I whispered in her ear, “I will always be your Daddy.” 

This was not a statement concerning the biological reality of my fatherhood; rather it was a promise to love her and raise her and be with her as long as God grants me the opportunity.  It was a one-sided promise to her that no matter what, I would love her and care for her.  Nothing would be required of her for that love and care.  You could say that it was an unconditional promise, stemming from an unconditional love.

I will say that again, “it was an unconditional promise, stemming from an unconditional love.”

These intimate, unconditional promises between God and us are the sorts of promises that are at the root of our faith.  The first time we see such a promise is at the end of Noah’s story. 

After God got fed up with the evil of humanity and decided to essentially wipe the world clean and start over, and after actually going through with the plan by sending an enormous flood to wipe the world clean, God decides that this just might not be the best way to show the world that it is loved.  You cannot just destroy something every time it makes you mad. 

So, God makes a one-sided promise to the world, that every time God sees the bow hung away in the sky for safe keeping, God will remember to never to pick up that bow and use it to destroy the world again.  It was an unconditional promise, stemming from an unconditional love.

Before I continue with the promise found in Abram and Sarai’s story, I just want to say quickly that God has a lot to say about cancel culture in Noah’s story. 

You know cancel culture.  It can look like a civil rights activists being silenced and cancelled by media and government as he or she tries to speak for freedom.  Or, it can look like political figures being silenced and cancelled because they share a word that is not acceptable to others. 

After performing the ultimate in cancel culture this one time, through the destruction of a flood, God decides that redeeming and transforming humanity is a better answer than cancelling humanity. 

A promise is better than pulling down.  So, God gives a promise to Noah and us, Noah’s descendants.  We are promised that complete destruction is not the way of God.

That promise is just the start of God’s promises though.  As we read today, God gave a promise to Abram.  Genesis 17 reads, “As for me, this is my covenant with you: You shall be the ancestor of a multitude of nations.  No longer shall your name be Abram, but your name shall be Abraham; for I have made you the ancestor of a multitude of nations.  I will make you exceedingly fruitful; and I will make nations of you and kings shall come from you.  I will establish my covenant between me and you, and your offspring after you throughout their generations, for an everlasting covenant, to be God to you and to your offspring after you.” 

This is the promise from God; that Abram will have children, and God will remain devoted to Abram and his children. 

That sounds all well and good, (God is good! God provides!), but here’s the thing; Abram does not know that God will provide.  Abram is ninety-nine years old.  His wife is not much younger.  And, Abram has heard this same promise before from God, and nothing has come of it!

Having been in Abram and Sarai’s shoes, and not conceiving of a child for twenty years, I understand.  I have to say that the words, “God will make it happen someday” fell pretty flat on us throughout those 20 years.  Now, we all know the end of our family’s story; we have two healthy and wonderful children, but we did not know the end of the story at the time.  Like Abram and Sarai, the only thing we knew at the time was the uncertainty and the fear that we would never get to have a child of our own. 

And, that is the simple point that I would like to make; that behind promises lay uncertainty and fear. 

Will we ever have a child?  Will peace ever come back to the war torn nation?  Will the grief ever come to an end?  Will God forgive me even for this?  Will I get to live beyond tomorrow?  Will I ever have someone to love me?  Will I die here alone?  Will the insurance company ever get back to me about fixing my car?  You know, vital questions! 

Behind every promise lay uncertainty and fear.  Insurance companies are famous for giving promises, but are not as famous for making the promises come true.

The possibility that it might not come true is precisely what makes trusting in the promise an act of faith.  Abraham and Sarah have no choice but to eventually trust that they will have a child of their own.  The world trusts that it will not be destroyed by a life-ending flood.  And, Christians trust that “just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life,” the words of trust from Paul in Romans 6:4. 

Newness of life is not a certainty.  God could change God’s mind.  God could decide that cancel culture is the way and that loving and redeeming is not.  It is possible.  After-all, God is God and God will do whatever God wants.  But, God has given us a promise, an everlasting covenant, as God says is God’s own words, “to be God to you and to your offspring after you.”

So, trusting in the promises of God is our first, and probably our deepest root of faith. 

But, this is not a root that we just decide one day to send down into the ground.  Plants are not in control of their roots.  You cannot decide to be cool like me and give your tooth four roots instead of two. 

This root of faith is a gift from God.  Our root of faith is a gift that comes from generations and generations of believers telling each other over and over again of the times that God did live up to the promise. 

God did give Abraham and Sarah a “multitude of nations.”  God has not wipes us clean off the face of the earth through a flood.  God has loved us to the end on the cross, and given us the life of his blood, the new life found in the resurrection. 

Jesus Christ has provided us with the gift of trust, the gift of faith.  And, we share the stories over and over about how good God has been.  And, it is that root that nourishes our souls day in and day out. 

We are firmly rooted in God’s unconditional promise, stemming from an unconditional love.