A long, long time ago … some 4,000 years ago to be a bit more precise … a family of nomads wandered from what is now the southeastern area of Iraq, then called Ur … and journeyed towards the land of Canaan. The patriarch of this nomadic tribe was Terah and among the family members he took with him were his grandson Lot, his son Abram and his son's wife, Sarai. This band of travelers made it as far as Haran which is located in present day Turkey, near the Syrian border … not quite all the way to Canaan. They settled for a time in Haran, where eventually the reigning patriarch, Terah, died at a very ripe age … leaving Abram to continue the family heritage and journeying.
"Now the Lord said to Abram, 'Go from your country and your kindred and your father's house to the land that I will show you.'" At the age of 75, Abram leaves everything familiar, cuts his family ties and sets of on this history changing venture – with nothing more than the word of Lord, which promise him the impossible. He is promised a new land, and even more improbable, the title of "Father Abraham." People of three religions call him father – Jews, Muslims and Christians, all three faith traditions known as "people of the book."
Abram's journey must have seemed absolutely crazed to those around. They are really given directions, just: "Go!" And after all these years, it seemed unlikely that his wife would bear a child. Yet, off his clan goes, severing ties to all they knew to become a new people – it's a crazy thing they do … listening to an old man who says he heard the voice of God, that God told him to get moving, and moreover his barren wife would be having a baby. The faith of Abram and his family is so incredible it gets mentioned as one of the benchmarks of faith when the New Testament writers are lifting up examples of the greatest faith responses.
Many, many generations later we find stories of his distant relatives in our gospel reading – tax collectors, unclean woman, sick children – all persons with no name or place in their society. The wandering band of immigrants that Abram led into a new land and into a new relationship with God have settled down. Even after all these years, they still find themselves not exactly at home. They live with the authority of religious leaders who attempt to keep God from the "common" people … and on the other side live under the vicious oppression of Roman occupation. It's not a pretty picture.
As I live with these texts, I am reminded of the place … or lack thereof … of immigrants in our world. While in Jordan, I saw the massive camps built for the Palestinian refugees forced from their land by the country of Israel. In Afghanistan I witnessed busload after busload of refugees returning home after forced displacement – returning home – often to find there was no home left. In our own towns we see the immigrant communities, waiting on street corners and parking lots … hoping to be noticed for work, but keeping a low profile lest their documentation be called into question. As a church we have are wrestling with following what God calls us to do, knowing it will put us at odds with the legal systems of the country. We are seeing a return of churches claiming sanctuary status, providing a place for people facing deportation. The culture of fear that has been cultivated since 9/11 has led to an increasing hostility towards immigrants of any nationality. We will be struggling with the issue of providing home and place and hospitality for the immigrant, for the people with no place in the world – and it will not always be the popular thing to do.
In living with these texts I am also struck by the amazing stories of hope present in these people: Abram … the tax collector … an unclean woman … a father's care for his daughter. These are all people who in spite of their present reality dare to hope. You may know the winsome story told by Samuel Johnson. Johnson wrote about a man who endured an exceedingly bad, and exceedingly long, marriage. But when his wife finally died, he did something unexpected – he immediately remarried. Johnson called it "the triumph of hope over experience."
Abram was presumably the patriarch of his clan after the death of his father. How irresponsible to round up the family and bring them out of the familiar … with only the belief he had heard the voice of God telling him to go. No directions, the unbelievable promise of children in his old age … Abram chose hope over experience. It was a movement so incredible it is signified by a name change. Abram becomes Abraham.
A tax collector is waved over by Jesus … a profession despised – people who lived between their own people and the Roman oppressors. Jesus shouldn't have even taken notice of this man sitting in the tax booth. A woman rendered permanently unclean by her illness … she has no hope of ever rejoining society. Yet, she reaches out to touch the hem of Jesus' garment … a movement of hope over experience. A father who takes enough care for his daughter … remember, children had little or no place in the time of Jesus, and especially not female children … yet this father begs Jesus to come and heal his daughter.
The triumph of hope over experience. It's what keeps us daring to put one foot in front of the other as God's people. It is what keeps us going when there is no earthly reason to believe that given our present reality anything could possibly come together … knowing there is a heavenly reason to have hope. We follow in the footsteps of Abraham and Sarah; and Matthew, the tax collector; and the unclean woman; and the synagogue leader … all who had hope beyond their current experiences and realities. Captain Hannibal Smith of the A-Team, a 1980's show was fond of saying … after his outrageous, improbable schemes came to fruition: "I love it when a plan comes together." As the people who follow in the life and example of Jesus Christ, we are the ones who dare to dream the outrageous, audacious visions – for we follow the one who triumphed over death and despair despite all the realities the Roman rulers and religious authorities conspired against him. We are the ones who will in the end say the ultimate – I love it when a plan comes together, for hope WILL triumph over experience.
Go back to the 2008 Sermons page.
Go back to the UMC Red Bank home page.