Sermon manuscript for Sabbath, April 29, 2017, for Green Lake Church of Seventh-day Adventists
Genesis 16:1-11, Matthew 2:1-11.
Synopsis:
The Bible reports
that Abraham, the “father of the faithful,” had two sons, Ishmael
and Isaac. Ishmael quickly recedes into the background (along with
six other sons born in his old age to a concubine) and the Bible
becomes the story of the Isaac branch of the family of Abraham. The
Hebrew people (grandchildren of Isaac) emigrate to Egypt, are
enslaved, then rescued by God. The Hebrew people become a kingdom
with David as its most illustrious monarch. Among Hebrews prophets
arise—Elijah, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Daniel. And from the Hebrew royal
line comes the Messiah, Jesus of Nazareth, father of the Christians.
This is the story that features in our worship. It is the story we
rehearse and claim as our own. But what about the descendants of
Abraham through Ishmael? God had promised Abraham that Ishmael, too,
would father a great nation. God would honor his friendship with
Abraham by showing kindness to Abraham's “other son.” Did God
forget his promise? Skip forward in time to one of the greatest
Hebrew prophets, Isaiah. In one of his visions of the New Earth, the
prophet writes regarding the descendants of Ishmael, “They shall
ascend with acceptance on My altar,
And I will glorify
the house of My glory.” When the vision of God reaches its glorious
climax, the hidden siblings of Israel are publicly welcomed and
honored. God keeps his promises, even to the second class family
members, even to those who appear lost beyond recall, distant to the
point of invisibility. As children of God we are invited to partner
with God in welcoming our secret siblings.
Sermon:
As Karin and I were
planning our move to Green Lake Church, we knew one thing would be
different from every other church we had pastored. We would have
relatives in the church. Erik and Katrina and Brian and Naomi. Never
before had any one in our churches had connections with our families
or even with our pasts.
Shortly after we
arrived I was greeting people at the door and I met a woman named
Edith Burden. I did a double take. Burden? Are you related to H. O.
Burden? She was. Another relative.
Then I met with a
woman whose husband was in a Seattle hospital with a scary diagnosis.
I had heard about her because some people were critical of a
specialized ministry she was involved in. I visited her at the
hospital. We talked for a long time. I was fascinated by the
potential of her ministry. At some point she said, “You do know we
are related right?”
I felt like an
idiot. We had been talking for an hour. I did not recall we had ever
met, much less that we were cousins. I try to say nice things about
everybody I meet because who knows—they might be relatives!
Family is special.
We carry a special sense of responsibility for our relatives. If one
of our nieces or nephews flies into town, they know they have free
airport shuttle service and a free hotel room at our place. Some
people in this congregation have taken this family responsibility to
great extremes. You have literally saved the lives of relatives. If I
ask why you do it, you shrug your shoulders and say, “What else
could we do.” Help was needed. Help was provided. That's part of
the way family works—when it works the way it's supposed to.
Family connection is
central to the Bible story. The book of Genesis features genealogies,
family histories. And the most important genealogy is the record of
the ancestors of Abraham and the record of the descendants of
Abraham's grandson Jacob. You are in the story if you are part of
that family. You are peripheral to the story if you are not in that
family.
This story of the
family of Abraham's grandson plays out through the rest of the Old
Testament. The descendants of Jacob split into two nations. The Bible
keeps track of both nations until the northern kingdom goes extinct.
The story continues
and sets up the story of Jesus. Jesus is the descendant of David, and
Abraham and Adam . . . who is the Son of God.
This is the story
that stands at the center of our worship. We claim the Bible story as
our story. We claim the promises to the Jewish people as promises to
us. We imagine ourselves as part of the beloved family. When God
talks of never forgetting Israel, we read those words as applying to
us: God will never forget me. When God promises to forgive Israel, we
apply those promises to ourselves. We are “spiritual Israel.” we
say. We claim this connection because of the Apostle Paul.
Clearly, God’s promise to give the whole earth to Abraham and his
descendants was based not on his obedience to God’s law, but on a
right relationship with God that comes by faith. Rom 4:13 NLT
Therefore, the promise comes by faith, so that it may be by grace and
may be guaranteed to all Abraham's offspring—not only to those who
are of the law but also to those who have the faith of Abraham. He is
the father of us all. Rom 4:16
Abraham is the
father of all who believe—the spiritual father. We are spiritual
children of Abraham. This is nice. It allows us to apply to ourselves
all the good promises of mercy and protection God gave to the ancient
Jewish people. We are in the family.
This is wonderful.
It also carries a risk. Sometimes we who have been taken into the
family appoint ourselves as custodians and guardians of the purity of
the family. We imagine there is only one family of God and we are it.
And the only way for anyone to be part of the family of God is to
submit to the name and identity of our particular family.
I remember reading
an encyclical by Pope John Paul II in which he carefully explained
that while the Catholic Church had charitable feelings toward other
Christian bodies, those other Christian bodies were not really
churches. Because there was only one church and the church of Rome
was it. It reminded me of Adventist literature which makes exactly
the same claim. We—our denomination—we are the one true church,
the one actual, visible church of God, and everyone else is a
spiritual outsider.
We base these
notions of “one true people of God” on the Bible story of the
Jewish people. The Jews were the people of God. Jerusalem was the
city of God. Now we—Adventists or Catholics or Missouri Synod
Lutherans or Jehovah's Witnesses or Church of Christ—we are the new
people of God. Our denomination is the New Jerusalem.
But let's look a
little closer at the Bible story.
Abraham had no
children and he was getting old. Sarah, his wife, suggested he take
her maid, Hagar, as a concubine so he would have an heir. Abraham
agreed and Hagar got pregnant. But things didn't go so well. Hagar
got uppity and Sarah got mad. The abuse from Sarah was so bad, Hagar
ran away. An angel found her out in the desert and sent her back home
with this promise: Your son will be great. His descendants will
become an uncountable multitude.
When Ishmael was a
teenager, God appeared to Abraham and announced that Sarah was going
to have a son, and this son was going to be the one to inherit the
promises God had made to Abraham. Abraham protested: What about my
son Ishmael?
“I will bless him
to,” God said. “I will make his descendants into a great nation.”
With that Ishmael pretty much disappears from the Bible story. He
reappears when Abraham dies, participating in the funeral honoring
his father. Then silence. Decades, centuries of story roll on with no
record of Ishmael and his descendants. Until we come to the prophet
Isaiah. In chapter 60, this great gospel prophet is describing how it
will be in the New Earth and he writes:
“They shall ascend with acceptance on My altar,
And I will glorify the house of My glory.”
Ishmael is the
secret sibling, the unknown relative. When God's vision reaches it
grand fulfillment, the entire family will be gathered including the
secret siblings, the brothers and sisters we did not know we had, the
cousins that were completely invisible to us.
This idea of secret
children of God pops up all through the Bible story and features
especially in the stories of Jesus.
When Jesus is born
the royalty that shows up to pay homage are strangers from the East.
We have no idea who they were. We don't know their fathers. We don't
know their religion. We don't know their nationality. These
mysterious royal figures echo the person Melchesideck whom Abraham
honored as his spiritual superior. Both the Kings from the East who
honored Jesus and Melchesidek who received tithes from Abraham
highlight the fact that there is a spiritual reality completely
independent of the “people of God,” the corporate body that is
the focus of any particular holy story.
Jesus repeatedly
made a point of “expanding” the holy family.
The Centurion who had more faith than any Jewish person Jesus had
met.
Jesus made the most unveiled assertion of his identity as the Messiah
to a Samaritan woman.
Jesus pointed to the Good Samaritan as a premier example of what it
meant to be obedient to God.
Out of a group of ten men healed of leprosy only the Samaritan
returned to give thanks.
Jesus challenged his Jewish audience: Many will come from the east
and west and sit down at the heavenly banquet, but you will be left
out.
It was a crippled woman, someone who bore the external marks of
divine disapproval that Jesus called “a daughter of Abraham.
Zacchaeus had divided loyalties. He collaborated with the Roman
occupiers and was dishonest to boot. Upon his repentance, Jesus
announced this man, too, was a son of Abraham.
Luke 4, Jesus preached a sermon in his home town. The audience loved
it until Jesus pointedly highlighted God's favor to a couple of
foreigners, the Widow of Nain and Naaman. The audience got so mad
they tried to kill him.
So what? What does
all this have to do with our lives?
First, we think of
ourselves as special. We find a special place in the prophecies of
Daniel and Revelation. That's us, we say, pointing to certain
passages. This is a good thing. If we are special, it will help us
act like special people. We are the Jesus people. We can count on the
special favor of God
Then what? Part of
being Jesus people is learning to see our secret siblings, learning
to recognize our family connection with all sorts of people.
The Bible centers
its story on the family of Jacob, more specifically, the part of that
family which is connected with the lineage of Jesus. Those people are
supposed to remember they are family and show each other the kinds of
mutual respect and support that is appropriate in a family.
Then the Bible
points us outward. The circle of family gets wider and wider. We
discover more and more secret siblings until we come to the Gospel of
Luke.
Luke traces the
genealogy of Jesus back to King David and to Abraham—the greatest
heroes of the Jewish story. Then Luke keeps going. According to the
Gospel of Luke Jesus' family is not only the family of Abraham and
David. Luke traces the genealogy all the way to Adam the Son of God.
Our family is the
family of humanity. Every human is part of our clan.
We are special. And
we are called to extend the benefits and privileges we enjoy as
widely as possible.
Our house is a house
of prayer for all nations.
No comments:
Post a Comment