Second Sunday in Lent
Grace be to you and peace from God our Father the and the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
Abraham is suffering a bout of anxiety. Three chapters ago, God had promised him children and a land of his own. Ever since, Abraham and Sarah had been on the journey, and so far: nothing! No land. No babies. Abraham is experiencing a crisis of faith. He is quite testy with God in their conversation. Abraham pretty much says, “Well, since you aren’t coming through, I guess I have to take matters into my own hands and adopt myself an heir.”
When life gets to be overwhelming, faith can suffer. When loneliness or marital troubles, grief or fear, worry about children or parents or financial matters, the threat of war or global warming or job insecurity loom large, our trust in God can sometimes diminish. It feels like it isn’t God who controls our present and future, but all those challenges.
So yes, I can relate to Abraham and his doubts.
God responds to Abraham’s crisis of faith in two ways.
First, God gives Abraham a visual aid. He takes Abraham outside and points at the night sky. Have you ever been in the desert or in another area without light pollution, and have looked at the sky at night? The first time I had that opportunity I was blown away by the number of stars visible.
God points at this sky and tells Abraham that he will have as many descendants as stars in the sky. This is a visual aid to help Abraham in moments of doubt. From now on, every time his faith falters, he can look at the stars and remember this intimate moment with God and recall God’s promise.
Second, God makes a covenant with Abraham.
The ritual described in our text is a bit bloody but was a common covenant sealing ceremony at that time. When two people made a covenant, they would take animals, cut them in half, and lay the halves opposite each other creating a path. Both covenant partners would walk along this path. In doing so, they promised to walk within the framework of the covenant just agreed upon; symbolically they affirmed that if they should ever break the covenant, the fate that had befallen these animals should befall them.
That’s how two people would seal a covenant. When God seals the covenant with Abraham, however, there is one difference: Only God walks the path between the animals. God places the burden of keeping the covenant upon himself alone. This is huge.
God is promising that this covenant does not hinge on Abraham’s faithfulness. Which is a good thing, because today is not the only time that Abraham is demonstrating a lull in faith. He will lie about his wife being his sister to protect himself; he almost gives away the promised land to his nephew; he has a child with a slave girl (since God still hasn’t fulfilled that promise of a son). Abraham has great moments of faith, but he also has great moments of failure.
That’s why it is such good news to him that this covenant with God hinges not on Abraham’s faithfulness, but on God’s.
The same is true with our baptismal covenant with God. It hinges completely on the faithfulness of God. Which is a good thing. Because, like Abraham, we have times when our faith is strong and our courage emerges from a deep sense of trust in God’s powerful presence. And we have times when we are fearful and overwhelmed, and it feels like God is not coming through with the blessings promised.
What can be our reminders of that intimate moment we had with God on the day of our baptism? What works for you as a reminder of God’s love and faithfulness? A cross necklace you were given at baptism? A banner from your first communion Sunday? A Bible you received at confirmation? A prayer shawl you were wrapped in during illness? A special painting? A meaningful prayer? Search for such visual reminders of God’s covenant with you, of his promise for the future.
That moment with Abraham under the night sky was so tender, so caring. I love that God did that for Abraham. The moment when we are baptized is just as tender and caring, filled with the spirit of love and hope. Every time we celebrate a baptism, we rejoice that from that day on, that person will live in a covenant with God. God says to her or him: I have a plan for the future, and you are in it.
Another image of divine tenderness and care is given to us in today’s gospel. Jesus longs to gather the people under his wings like a hen gathers her brood. What a heart-warming image that is. We are invited to snuggle together under Jesus’ loving and protective wings.
I remember the day when I played a game with my daughter Nora and her friends when they were all in kindergarten. The game had question cards, some of them funny and some of them faith related. One question was: “What do you think heaven is like?” Nora’s friend answered, “There you can always snuggle with Jesus.” I never forgot that answer. Heaven means snuggling with Jesus – such a vision of comfort and safety and peace.
Now we read that Jesus wants us to snuggle with him already in the here and now. He wants to gather us under his wings now. He knows full well how hard life can be and how vulnerable we can feel and how lost. And so he calls us to come and snuggle under his wings.
That snuggling can happen here at church. This sanctuary is filled with God’s presence and with the care and compassion of our fellow Christians. Here God reminds us of the covenant of baptism and all the promises it entails. Here God speaks words of hope and salvation to us. Here we see visual reminders of God’s faithfulness and tenderness towards us: the cross, the baptismal font, the table of grace.
Here God hugs us through the hugs of our brothers and sisters in faith. Here God wipes our tears, pats our shoulders, accompanies our sorrows through the compassion of fellow believers. Here we find safety and peace, love and tenderness, encouragement and guidance.
Fortified by all that tender care, we embark anew on our journey of faith.
After his tender moment with God, Abraham continues to walk for many years towards the fulfillment of God’s promises to him.
After sharing the tender image of the hen and her chicks, Jesus continues to walk to Jerusalem in spite of the warning he had received, continues to heal and cast out demons, continues to go about his vocation. His faith and trust in God help him to do that.
A couple of years ago, I participated in a series of faith conversations in the city of Baltimore. Today’s topic reminded me of one specific gathering during the time when the issue of police brutality was all over the press. That day, we were asked to share a moment when we had to trust God. We talked about life transitions like starting a new job, getting married, and having a baby. You need trust in God for all of those.
Then I asked a police officer at my table how trust in God might play a role in his often-dangerous job. With that question I opened the flood gates. He shared his frustration with the current public opinion against police officers. Now, he said, he doesn’t just have to be afraid of getting shot or insulted when approaching a car, he also has to worry about being reported and written up for not saying “Sir” and “Ma’am”. He feels squeezed from all sides.
The hardest thing for him to deal with, though, is not the violence, of which Baltimore has plenty for sure. The hardest is seeing things like little kids sleeping on a mattress on the floor full of dog feces. He went on and on sharing how overwhelming his job often is. He could not do it, he said, if it weren’t for God. His sense of God with him gives him strength. His ability to spot blessings of God along the way gives him hope. Church on Sundays is the place where he recharges his soul and his faith for the coming week, so he can go about his vocation and make this world a safer place.
It was a powerful witness. And it reminded me of Abraham: tender moments in God’s presence gave him the faith to continue on his difficult journey.
It is what our lives of faith are like. There are always challenges in life, but right now it seems particularly bad. The firing of so many federal employees and contractors has thrown countless lives into chaos and fear. And we hold our breath in regards to our economy in the midst of a tariff war. How is this all going to end? How can we move forward? Where do we find strength and guidance and assurance and hope?
We find it here, in worship. We come here for an intimate time with God, reminded of God’s promises, covenant, and tender love for us. Afterwards, we go back into our busy, stressful lives with our souls recharged. Trusting that God has our future in his hands, we faithfully go about our vocations, our jobs, our roles in family and community and church – and in doing so, contribute to the healing of this world. Amen.