Sermon for Sixth Sunday after Pentecost – Genesis 18:1-10a

How’s the weather treating you? Hot? Sticky? Who’s a fan? Who’s not? There’s something about this kind of hot weather that weighs on me after a while. Usually I’m full of energy and hustling on a whole bunch of projects, but right now it’s kind of a monumental effort for me to do anything at all. Which is pretty frustrating, but maybe it’s a good lesson in patience. It won’t be summer forever. Or I hope not! Thanks, global warming! But somehow it kind of makes me picture a city street where you’ve got a row of front porches or stoops where folks are just sort of sitting and watching time pass by. Some folks are fanning themselves. Some are sipping a glass of water or lemonade. Not a lot of energy. Not lot of moving around. Just watching and waiting for something to change. But you kind of get the feeling not much ever changes. Some folks are trying to get work but no one ever calls them back. Some folks wonder when the city is ever going to pave those craters in the street that destroy tires. Some folks wonder about the absentee landlords letting some of the houses sit abandoned for years and invite trouble. A lot of needs that won’t go away. A lot of folks waiting for a change that never seems to happen. After a while you wonder if anyone cares.

And so we have today’s first reading from Genesis. The Lord appeared to Abraham by the oaks of MAMRA, as he sat at the entrance of his tent in the heat of the day. Now, that’s actually a weird thing to say, because we think this is actually Hebron in the West Bank of Palestine, and their weather is a little cooler than ours, but let’s go with it anyway. Point being Abraham feels stuck. Worn down. God always making promises but nothing ever changes. So how did Abraham get here?

Well, it started way back when he was just Abram settling in Haran with his wife Sarai. He’s 75 at this point, and Sarai is barren, and they’re only settlers, so there’s always this background fear of survival even after all these years. Out of nowhere God shows up with this insane promise. Leave the rest of your people behind and go to a place that I won’t tell you yet. Anyone hear a catch there? I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. If you’re like me you’d say, uh, who are you and what do you want? But we’re not Abram and so he goes. Lots of adventures along the way. Years in the making. The time he scammed Pharaoh. Infighting with family. Battles with kings. All this, but God still holds out on the part about kids. So Abram tells God, “hey, you’re not keeping your word.” Still more promises from God, but Sarai’s had enough with that children thing, so she convinces Abram to sleep with their servant Hagar and we know how THAT went down. High drama. Point being Abram’s not exactly a paragon of virtue here, but God sticks with him.

So, Abram’s 99 now, no kids, and then God suddenly wants to establish a covenant. Circumcision. Which makes you wonder, all the ways you can covenant, and this? But they do it, which says a lot about Abram’s faith. And vocal cords considering the screams, but I digress. Anyway, after all this and a name change, now Abraham finds himself sitting at his tent in the heat of the day. All this and still no children. Now, God’s promises have gotten more specific. Sarah will bear a child this time next year. But after 22 years do you think it also sounds a little like a stalling technique? Besides, if God had never shown up, Abraham and Sarah could have made peace with living out their days settling with the rest of the clan. Yet God sees fit to dangle this carrot in front of them, and they’ve chased it for decades. It may be a testament to faith, but it’s also a strange dynamic. So maybe Abraham finds himself sitting on his front stoop in the middle of a hot summer, waiting for a change that never seems to happen.

At any rate, these three strangers show up out of nowhere, and Abraham jumps right up to extend hospitality to them. That’s amazing considering the covenant he just made. But it’s also a big deal when you’re a nomad in the wilderness. Survival of the fittest. So this story gets read like a picture of perfect hospitality. Something we should try to imitate. But then again these aren’t exactly strangers. The Lord appeared to Abraham. He calls them Adonai and bows down to the ground. Water to wash their feet. Curds and milk and a perfect calf and so many cakes. It’s not normal for the time. It’s abnormal. Excessive. It’s like when I try to do hospitality, because I don’t know when to quit. So, it’s odd that we read this story alongside the story of Mary and Martha because the hospitality business is really kind of a distraction from the main event here, which is that God has come to repeat the same tired promise of children that God’s been repeating for decades. But Abraham is getting very skeptical, so God ups the ante and makes an actual appearance in these three strangers. Except, God also gets vague again. “In due season your wife Sarah shall have a son.” When? I hate that the lectionary cuts off here, because Sarah listens in on the conversation and just starts laughing. “After I have grown old, and my husband is old, shall I have pleasure?” Does her laughter sound hearty or bitter?

So how are God’s promises working for us? Any better? Does God answer our prayers? When we ask God for healing? When we ask God to free those we love from addiction? When we ask God to free us from the bonds of racism and hate? When we ask God to bring new life in spite of our barrenness? Does God answer? In our best moments we try to find some solace in the memories of happier times. We want to say that God has brought us this far. But how do we know the difference between faith and self-deception? We still suffer. We still lose those we love. We still lose ourselves.

But here’s the good news. We never lose God, because God refuses to let go of us, just like God refused to let go of Abraham and Sarah. God intimately knows our deepest suffering and loss and feels it deep in his own bosom. Because this is the God who became flesh in Jesus Christ, who took all our suffering and brokenness upon himself on the cross to die and lose everything for our sake. But this is not the last word. After three days he rose from the grave, to win everything in heaven and earth. And he has given it to us in all fullness, even though we never asked him for it. That changes everything. Abraham and Sarah could only rest on faith in God’s promises until the day they witnessed God deliver everything in their son Isaac. But we get to rest on what Jesus has already delivered to us, and it is accomplished. All is forgiven for you and for me.

And everything has changed, because Jesus has sent us his Holy Spirit, to fill us with the same faith that Abraham and Sarah knew. The kind of faith that leads us to stake absolutely everything on a promise that all will be reconciled to God. When weeping and suffering will be no more. When death and loss will be no more. But what about now, and all the injustice we face every day? Well, it’s this faith that gives us eyes and ears to behold the kingdom of God rising up in spite of everything. We get to witness redemption in the lives of folks who finally get a break. Folks who get an opportunity to provide for their families. Folks who win another day of sobriety. Neighborhoods who come together to build relationships and to know each other by name. Because all of a sudden we’re aware when folks are in trouble. We’re aware when things seem off that we never would have noticed before. But we don’t just keep the kingdom of God to ourselves. Faith drives us to tell others about it, because it will make all the difference to the person we least expect to care. And every great once in a while we’re blessed to find that out, maybe just when we needed to know that it really did matter after all.

It’s hard to believe, but God didn’t bring us this far just for nothing. That’s why God keeps repeating the same promise to Abraham and Sarah and us, because we always need to be reminded that this is really real. And when we look back, which we always do, we’ll see the mark of God in everything that brought us to this point. The highest highs and the lowest lows. Sure, it still matters what we do or don’t do. We still mess up. We’re not always the most hospitable folks. But somehow, just knowing that God has been with us every step of the way, we will all be changed in the end.