Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Crowd-Sourced Exegesis: Acts 1:1-11



Theophilus, the first scroll I wrote concerned everything Jesus did and taught from the beginning,  right up to the day when he was taken up into heaven. Before he was taken up, working in the power of the Holy Spirit, Jesus instructed the apostles he had chosen.  After his suffering, he showed them that he was alive with many convincing proofs. He appeared to them over a period of forty days, speaking to them about God’s kingdom.  While they were eating together, he ordered them not to leave Jerusalem but to wait for what the Father had promised. He said, “ This is what you heard from me:  John baptized with water, but in only a few days you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit. ”
 As a result, those who had gathered together asked Jesus, “ Lord, are you going to restore the kingdom to Israel now? ”
Jesus replied, “ It isn’t for you to know the times or seasons that the Father has set by his own authority.  Rather, you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth. ”
After Jesus said these things, as they were watching, he was lifted up and a cloud took him out of their sight.  While he was going away and as they were staring toward heaven, suddenly two men in white robes stood next to them.  They said, “ Galileans, why are you standing here, looking toward heaven? This Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way that you saw him go into heaven. ”
 

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Dear North Carolina,

Dear North Carolina,

I expect better of you.

Love,
Joseph

Sunday, April 22, 2012

For Christ's Sake

For Christ's Sake from Joseph Taber on Vimeo.



Ezekiel 36:22-38

22Say to the House of Israel: Thus said the LORD GOD: Not for your sake will I act, O House of Israel, but for My holy name, which you have caused to be profaned among the nations to which you have come. 23I will sanctify My great name which has been profaned among the nations - among whom you have caused it to be profaned. And the nations shall know that I am the LORD - declares the LORD GOD - when I manifest my holiness before their eyes through you. 24I will take you from among the nations and gather you from all the countries, and I will bring you back to your own land. 25I will sprinkle clean water upon you and you shall be clean: I will cleanse you from all your uncleanness and from all your fetishes. 26And I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit into you: I will remove the heart of stone from your body and give you a heart of flesh; 27and I will put My spirit into you. Thus I will cause you to follow My laws and faithfully to observe My rules. 28Then you shall dwell in the land which I have given to your fathers; and you shall be my people and I will be your God.

29And when I have delivered you from all your uncleanness, I will summon the grain and make it abundant, and I will not bring famine upon you. 30I will make the fruit of your trees and the crops of your fields abundant, so that you shall never again be humiliated before the nations because of famine. 31Then you shall recall your evil ways and your base conduct, and you shall loathe yourselves for your iniquities and your abhorrent practices. 32Not for your sake will I act - declares the LORD GOD - take good note! Be ashamed and humiliated because of your ways, O House of Israel!

33Thus said the LORD GOD: When I have cleansed you of all your iniquities, I will people your settlements, and the ruined places shall be rebuilt; 34 and the desolate land, after lying waste in the sight of every passerby, shall again be tilled. 35And men shall say, “That land, once desolate, has become like the garden of Eden; and the cities, once ruined, desolate, and ravaged, are now populated and fortified.” 36And the nations that are left around you shall know that I the LORD have rebuilt the ravaged places and replanted the desolate land. I the LORD have spoken and will act.

37Thus said the Lord God: Moreover, in this I will respond to the House of Israel and act for their sake: I will multiply their people like sheep. 38As Jerusalem is filled with sacrificial sheep during her festivals, so shall the ruined cities be filled with flocks of people. And they shall know that I am the LORD.

This is the Word of The Lord
Thanks Be to God

This text belongs to a people in exile. It belongs to those who have seen their buildings crumble, the crops burned, their people taken captive. This text belongs to those who are scattered and have no home. This text belongs to Lent’s not yet, and yet it has made its way into the already of Easter.

It’s found its way here because even though the women who went to the tomb have already seen the Lord, and even though the travelers on the Emmaus road have already dined with Christ, we are still living in an exile of our own making, waiting for God to establish the Kingdom here on earth. And Ezekiel’s prophesy concerning the restoration of the kingdom has not yet happened, and so it belongs to us.

Here I am, a young preacher. I read this text, and feel called to preach on it, and I want the sermon to be good. I mean, real good. I want to deliver the kind of sermons I’ve read in my literature courses, beautifully composed works of literature that testify to where God is acting in the world. I want to deliver sermons that stick with you for the long term. I’m sure that whatever it is that is important to us is something we want to be good at. We want to look good for our peers.

For me it’s preaching, but for others it may be playing bridge, or chess, or cooking. Or writing, or music, or any number of the other talents with which God has graced us. We want to be good. My struggle is: do I want to do this because I want to bring glory to the God who gave me these gifts, or do I want it for my own sake.

Truth is, my answer changes back and forth depending on the day you ask me. My full name is Joseph William Taber IV, and that name comes with a long and rich heritage, but this text tells me that the focus is not about the greatness of my name, or my Dad’s, or Grandaddy’s, or Pappy’s, or any name I pass on to my eventual son, hypothetical being that he is. But while we are busy trying to build ourselves up, God speaks. “Not for your sake will I act, O House of Israel, but for the sake of my holy name, which you have caused to be profaned among the nations to which you have come.”

I think the way we profane the name is by assuming that we somehow have a claim on God, and this passage refutes that. Our prayers are not opportunities to grab God like a child who won’t listen and lay down what we think the law should be. The image itself is preposterous, but it’s how many of us approach God. The Lion of Judah is not, to paraphrase C. S. Lewis, a tame lion. So God tells us that we are going to be restored from our exile, brought into Jerusalem from the wilderness, but makes a point that we are not being made holy again out of our own deserving. God is doing this because we’re making God look bad.

So God sends us into an exile of our own making, and we respond by trying to dig ourselves out. We maintain the idolatrous idea that if we got ourselves into this mess, we can get ourselves out. So our response is to do the same thing again. We haven’t learned, we only barely remember that this is what got us unto this mess in the first place. So our continued attempt at self-mastery in exile continues to profane God’s holy name, just as it did in Israel. Something’s got to change, and we have proven ourselves unwilling or unable to do it. So God promises a new beginning to us, for his name’s sake.

The language of this text is full of rich imagery of restoration and rebirth. But it is not for our sake that the restoration and rebirth occurs. It is not for our sake that we are given wealth, and talents, or called to this holy task. God is doing these things so that all the world will know that the LORD is God. Because when we seek to make ourselves look good, we have fooled ourselves into thinking that we are our own masters. But we are not our own, we belong to God.

The desire to be our own master is one of the many things we share with Israel, and both we and Israel go into exile on account of it. Israel’s desire to be its own master led it to abandon the instructions given to them by God to set them apart from the rest of the world. Our desire to be our own masters leads us to try and fill this text with what we want it to say, so that we don’t have to read what it actually says. We look at this strange text and have problems with it. We want God to act because God loves us, because we’re special to God. But this text tells us that “Not for your sake will I act, O house of Israel, but for my Holy name.”

That’s the problem, isn’t it. God acts for Godself, not for our sake. Preacher that I am, I asked myself “How do I take God acting for the sake of God’s holy name and use it to preach the Gospel?” To me, the rest of the passage is specifics on how that will be accomplished, and much of the first draft of my sermon was concerned with justifying this highly contextual language into our own place and time.

But the text doesn’t need to be justified, we already confessed that it was the Word of the Lord, and therefore it matters to us, just as God’s reputation matters to God. But we are compelled by this passage to move a little more slowly past our problems. “Be ashamed and humiliated because of your ways, O House of Israel.” Though this passage immediately promises a restoration, the whole of this text is wrapped up in how we once again become holy.

We’ve got to remember that God has to be the focus. When I did all of my exegetical work, all of my theological thinking, it was because I wanted to write a good sermon. I wanted to impress my colleagues, I wanted to impress my friends, I wanted to impress ya’ll here. And even though I had read the text a dozen times, and worked on it for many hours, I had not internalized it, and I hadn’t let it work on me. I wrote brilliant thoughts and beautiful lines all about why we didn’t want to deal with this text. I tried to force what I was thinking into a form that had worked for me before, and no matter how long I worked and thought and puffed on my theologian’s pipe I could not make my thoughts fit inside this text. Because this text was already full of its own meaning, and I was learning that the hard way.

That restoration doesn’t happen because of us. Our actions haven’t changed the way God looks at us, instead we’ve made God look bad. The peoples of the world look at us, hear what we say, see what we do, and we have represented a church full of hypocrites. Seeing how the world responds to God’s action and God’s people, God chooses to act in a new way.

God certainly doesn’t need our approval, God isn’t feeding some ego trip where the peoples of the world validate God’s existence. God is God, and does not depend on us. But the holiness of God matters because God refuses to disengage from creation. God does not make a habit of ignoring what is going on in our lives, even when it is offensive to God’s nature. Instead, because God insists on being in relationship with what God has created, God gathers us out of our exile and brings us back to where we belong. For us, a shift in our own mindset. For our spiritual ancestors, a shift in the political and physical reality.

There’s a shift at the end of the scripture too. After hearing time and time again that it is not for our sake that God will restore us to the kingdom, God says “In this I will respond to the House of Israel and act for their sake. I will multiply their people like sheep.” That shift is what attracted me to this passage in the first place. We start with God acting because it is God’s nature to be both holy and involved in creation, and now God is once again acting on our behalf, comparing us to sacrificial sheep, an animal that was set aside as holy, belonging to God, not to those of this world. That’s where this text enters the Easter tale.

At the end of this passage, it is not too far a leap to say that the link between acting for the sake of God’s holy name and our sake is acting for Christ’s sake. Through Christ, we are, as Paul’s letter to the Romans tells us, adopted as God’s children, and are fellow heirs with Christ. God and humanity are united again, brought home from exile among the nations where all we could do was to reflect poorly on the God who claims us.

So now all who see how we are changed will know, as the passage states, that the LORD is God. Because the LORD has spoken and acted. It is for Christ’s sake that in baptism we are sprinkled with clean water and our uncleanness is washed away. It is for Christ’s sake that our iniquities are cleansed and we who had not born fruit are made to produce again. It is for Christ’s sake that our homes and our lives are rebuilt, and that our hollowness is replaced with a fullness of life. It is for Christ’s sake that we are made holy again, set apart as a people of God, to fill God’s kingdom for the celebration to come.

That’s what we celebrate at Easter, and though we have to go through Good Friday to get there, at Easter we are brought back to the kingdom of God, and are set apart as belonging to God so that all the world may know that it is Christ who redeems, and that the LORD is God.

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Crowd-Sourced Exegesis: Ezekiel 36:22-38



Say to the House of Israel: This said the LORD GOD: Not for your sake will I act, O House of Israel, but for My holy name, which you have caused to be profaned among the nations to which you have come. I will sanctify My great name which has been profaned among the nations - among whom you have caused it to be profaned. And the nations shall know that I am the LORD declares the LORD GOD - when I manifest My holiness before their eyes through you. I will take you from among the nations and gather you from all the countries, and I will bring you back to your own land. I will sprinkle clean water upon you, and you shall be clean: I will cleanse you from all your uncleanness and from all your fetishes. And I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit into you: I will remove the heart of stone from your body and give you a heart of flesh; and I will put My spirit into you. This I will cause you to follow My laws and faithfully to observe My rules. Then you shall dwell in the land which I gave to your fathers, and you shall be My people and I will be your God.


And when I have delivered you from all your uncleanness, I will summon the grain and make it abundant, and I will not bring famine upon you. I will make the fruit of your trees and the crops of your fields abundant, so that you shall never again be humiliated before the nations because of famine. Then you shall recall your evil ways and your base conduct, and you shall loathe yourselves for your iniquities and your abhorrent practices. Not for your sake will I act - declares the LORD GOD - take good note! Be ashamed and humiliated because of your ways, O House of Israel!


Thus said the LORD GOD: When I have cleansed you of all your iniquities, I will people your settlements, and the ruined places shall be rebuilt; and the desolate land, after lying waste in the sight of every passerby, shall again be tilled. And men shall say, "That land, once desolate, has become like the garden of Eden; and the cities, once ruined, desolate, and ravaged, are now populated and fortified." And the nations that are left around you shall know that I the LORD have rebuilt the ravaged places and replanted the desolate land. I the LORD have spoken and will act.


Thus said the LORD GOD: Moreover, in this I will respond to the House of Israel and act for their sake: I will multiply their people like sheep. As Jerusalem is filled with sacrificial sheep during her festivals, so shall the ruined cities be filled with flocks of people. And they shall know that I am the LORD.

Wow, that's a long passage. I'd love to hear what y'all think about it! Comment below if you have reactions, they don't have to be profound or theological, they just have to be honest. Thanks so much!

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Engraving


Jeremiah 31:31-37
31The time is coming, declares the LORD, when I will make a new covenant with the people of Israel and Judah. 32It won’t be like the covenant I made with their ancestors when I took them by the hand to lead them out of the land of Egypt. They broke that covenant with me even though I was their husband, declares the LORD. 33No, this is the covenant that I will make with the people of Israel after that time, declares the LORD. I will put my instructions within them and engrave them on their hearts. I will be their God, and they will be my people. 34They will no longer need to teach each other to say, “Know the LORD!” because they will all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, declares the LORD; for I will forgive their wrongdoing and never again remember their sins.
35The LORD proclaims:
The one who established the sun
to light up the day
and ordered the moon and stars
to light up the night,
who stirs up the sea
into crashing waves,
whose name is the LORD of heavenly forces:
36If the created order should vanish
from my sight,
declares the LORD,
only then would Israel’s descendants
ever stop being a nation
before me.
37The LORD proclaims:
If the heavens above could be measured
and the foundations of the earth below
could be fathomed,
only then would I reject
Israel’s descendants
for what they have done,
declares the LORD.

This is the World of the Lord
Thanks be to God

The season of Lent is walking in the wilderness, mirroring Jesus forty days of temptation, and the ancient Israelites forty years before reaching the Promised Land. The Lenten wilderness is a spiritual wasteland that has no end in sight. But the prophet Jeremiah can see farther, and points us in the direction that the LORD is taking us.

There’s a reason we read this passage in the wilderness of Lent. There’s a reason Jeremiah speaks to us as we wander through the world, in search of our savior. There’s a reason we need to hear this word in every age, in every time and place. There’s a reason we need to remember the future that has been promised.

The reason is, we’re still a people who need God grace. The reason is we don’t have it together and we can’t do it on our own. The reason is our faith is shaken from time to time, and we still need to hear the promise, because the time is coming, declares the LORD.

“The time is coming, declares the LORD, when I will make a new covenant with the people of Israel and Judah.” Judah, the people who are suffering under the heel of the armies of Babylon, Judah, who are hiding in the hills watching as their homes are destroyed, as the kingdom that was promised to them burns and is systematically ripped apart. Our Judah has been conquered and it seems like the battle is over and we’re on the side of the losers. Our neighbors have been carried off into exile. The Babylonians that are knocking at our own doors are not here to make a social call. The symbol of the promise of God has been taken away from us.

When you’re in the Judah referenced in this passage, you’re watching everything you’ve built crumble before you. Living in Jeremiah’s Judah makes the stories you used to order your life around feel like a betrayal. Because those stories no longer apply, and we’re not equipped to deal with their loss.

My generation was told that if you get a college degree, you’ll get a job, and have a secure future. My parents generation was told that if you work hard, you’ll be able to retire comfortably. My grandparents generation was told that if you provide, you’ll be provided for. And then we all watched as those stories were suddenly not true for everyone anymore. The man who built great things during his long career sees that his retirement benefits are drying up. So now he has to sell what was to be his children’s inheritance to provide for himself and his wife. The woman who worked her whole life at the furniture factory is told that the business is moving overseas and she won’t get the pension she had planned for. The summa cum laude graduate hears that she’s the next great up-and-comer in her field time and again. But those who tell her that she has potential aren’t hiring. She worries that she can’t pay off the mortgage she took out on her future with student loans. And all of them groan together for a new promise, a new covenant.

It won’t be like the covenant I made with their ancestors when I took them by the hand to lead them out of the land of Egypt. It won’t be like the covenant that required more than the people have been able to live up to. It won’t be like the covenant that instructed them “You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, all your being, and all your strength.” It won’t be like the covenant that was to be tied on our hands, that should be written on our foreheads as a symbol. It won’t be like the covenant that our spiritual ancestors wrote on their houses’ door frames and on their cities’ gates. That covenant is broken, and we, individually and collectively, are the ones who broke it.

Broken promises to God. We live in a world glutted with broken promises to God. It seeps into every fiber of our culture, every word of our communication, and it’s all so very broken. The brokenness of our promises to God defines us, sinful from our origin. The broken covenant separates us from God. We cannot undo the break because we cannot keep the covenant. With Babylon beating on our doors to take us away, God misses us terribly, and refuses to let our break be the final word.

Jeremiah reminds us throughout this whole book that we have done this to ourselves, and we have done it to ourselves consistently. We cannot say that what has happened to us is not fair, because it’s not a matter of bad things happening to good people, it’s a matter of bad things happening to people who deserve what they get, because they have rejected God. God who wanted an intimate partnership with the people, a partnership compared in this passage to a husband. The comparison is weak, because God goes farther than any human metaphor of marriage could. When we reject and run away from God, God follows us. Our break will not be the word that defines our reality, God misses us too much for that to be all we are. So God changes the shape of reality in order to be with us.

We see how far we have fallen, we see what we have done to the world and to one another, pushing each other and ourselves away with the hope that by shoving them deeper into the muck we’ll somehow feel cleaner. So when we are about to get what we deserve for rejecting God, God speaks.

No.

No, that’s not the kind of God I am. That’s not the kind of people you will be. That’s not the kind of world I created. No that’s not the way it’s going to be. No, I will not allow you to be destroyed as a result of your own choices.

No, this is the covenant I will make with the people of Israel.

When you write something on your hand, it will wipe off. When you paint it above your doorpost, you can always paint over it. The old covenant trusted in human ability to keep it, and the human freedom to break the covenant won out instead. But this new covenant is not something we write, and it’s not something we can wash off or cover up. The new covenant is dependent solely on God’s intervention.

“I will put my Instructions within them and engrave them on their hearts. I will be their God, and they will be my people.”

I had the opportunity a few years ago to work with a stonecutter. Up until the moment when you begin the engraving process, you’re just looking at a rock. There’s nothing special about it, it’s like so many others. It’s a collection of minerals cut from a quarry. But once it’s engraved, it’s different. A blank wall becomes a monument. An empty slab becomes a gravestone. A floor tile becomes a centerpiece at a wedding banquet. The engraving takes a humble rock and provides it with a new purpose. Engraving a stone can transform the basest mineral deposits into beautiful art.

What the rock carver does to the stone, God’s covenant does to us. The instruction is internalized and engraved on our hearts. A new purpose is provided and we are no longer bound by our own brokenness but free to be restored to our relationship with God. The next verses tell us that we will no longer have to even teach each other what to say, because we’ll just know. We no longer have to remind ourselves what has been said, as with the ancient covenant, because it’s not an issue of knowing about, it’s about being who God has created us to be. God’s engraving on our hearts gives us a purpose and an identity and turns what is essentially a bag of meat and mostly water into a human being, created in the image of God.

And that time is coming, declares the LORD. Because we’re not there yet, we’re still wandering in the desolate wasteland of Lent, expecting to find a Babylonian army ready to carry us deeper into this exile of our own making. But being trapped in the desert doesn’t stop God from claiming us as God’s own. Because the second half of the passage is a creation story. God takes a moment to remind us of exactly who we’re dealing with here. We’re not dealing with some idol made of wood or brass. We’re being dealt with by “The one who established the sun to light up the day and ordered the moon and the starts to light up the night.” We are not claimed by a nationality, or a race, or a club, or a fraternity or a denomination. We are claimed by the one “who stirs up the sea into crashing waves, whose name is the LORD of heavenly forces.” This same one claims us as God’s own people.

When we run away and abandon God, and we will, God will engrave her instructions upon our hearts, giving us a purpose and an identity. Our discarded chunks of granite are engraved with and transformed into testimonies to God’s faithfulness. Because our rebellion shows God’s refusal to give up on us. God will have a relationship with us, even when we are broken and imperfect.

My mother has a saying, “God uses imperfect people because he made so few of the other kind.” We are the imperfect people whom God has choses to use. We are the body of Christ eagerly awaiting the return of our Lord. We are not our own, we belong to God, and God has missed us in our exile, and will bring us back. When we proved that we could not come back to God, God came to earth, taking the form of a slave, and was crucified for us so that we will know that God will be with us no matter what. Let us know that God has engraved our hearts with that powerful message of love. There’s a reason we read this text in the wilderness of Lent, so that when we are confronted with our sinfulness, we will be reminded that God will be with us no matter what.

Lord of heaven and earth, we feel alone and broken, and we cannot reach out to you. Comfort us with the knowledge that even though we can never reach you, you not only reach us, but refuse to let us go. Amen.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Changes

Hey folks, time to update your bookmarks. I've changed both the title and address of my blog. The "Russel(l) eats poo" moniker has served me well, but as I approach the realm of ordered ministry, I decided to frame the blog more theologically, to reflect what is increasingly becoming my reality. The new title, as you can see, is "One Short Sleep Past" and the new web address is http://wewakeeternally.blogspot.com/

The REP name was a reference to my Freshman dorm room, which had been "decorated" with a permanent marker by a previous occupant. Of the things that could have been added to a door in a Freshman Dorm, "Russel eats poo" was on the tame side. It became a kind of a battle cry for me and my roommate. However, a couple of folks have indicated that the name might be a barrier to those who might otherwise enjoy my contributions.

This is not a sanitation, but a reframing. I still enjoy slightly off-color humor and that will still pop up on this site from time to time. The new title and website are taken from John Donne's Holy Sonnet X, which I've added below.

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so,
For, those whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and souls delivery.
Thou are slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppie, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better than thy stroke, why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

This is a short post, but I'm preaching this weekend on Jeremiah 31:31-37, so a new sermon is forthcoming.

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Abraham, Fear and Faith (Genesis 15 and Romans 4)

Genesis 15:1-8

1After these events, the LORD’s word came to Abram in a vision, “Don’t be afraid, Abram. I am your protector. Your reward will be very great.”

2But Abram said, “LORD God, what can you possible give me, since I have no children? The head of my household is Eliezer, a man from Damascus.” 3He continued, “Since you haven’t given me any children, the head of my household will be my heir.”

4The LORD’s word came immediately to him, “This man will not be your heir. Your heir will definitely be your very own biological child.” 5Then he brought Abram outside and said, “Look up at the sky and count the stars if you think you can count them.” The LORD continued, “This is how many children you will have.” 6Abram had faith in the LORD, and it was credited to him as righteousness.

7The LORD said to Abram, “I am the LORD, who brought you out of Ur of the Chaldeans to give you this land as your possession.” 8But Abram said, “LORD God, how do I know that I will actually possess it?”

This is the Word of the Lord
Thanks be to God

Romans 4:13-25
13The promise to Abraham and to his descendants, that he would inherit the world, didn’t come through the law but through the righteousness that comes from faith. 14If they inherit because of the Law, the faith has no effect and the promise has been cancelled. 15The Law brings about wrath. But when there isn’t any law, there isn’t any violation of the law. 16That’s why the inheritance comes through faith, so that it will be on the basis of God’s grace. In that way, the promise is secure for all of Abraham’s descendants, not just for those who are related by Law but also for those who are related by the faith of Abraham, who is the father of all of us. 17As it is written: “I have appointed you to be the father of many nations.” So Abraham is our father in the eyes of God in whom he had faith, the God who gives life to the dead and calls things that don’t exist into existence. 18When it was beyond hope, he had faith in the hope that he would become the father of many nations, in keeping with the promise God spoke to him: “That’s how many descendants you will have.” 19Without losing faith, Abraham, who was nearly 100 years old, took into account his own body, which was as good as dead, and Sarah’s womb, which was dead. 20He didn’t hesitate with a lack of faith in God’s promise, but he grew strong in faith and gave glory to God. 21He was fully convinced that God was able to do what he promised. 22Therefore it was credited to him as righteousness.

23But the scripture that says “it was credited to him” wasn’t written only for Abraham’s sake. 24It was written also for our sake, because it is going to be credited to us too. It will be credited to those of us who have faith in the one who raised Jesus our Lord from the dead. 25He was handed over because of our mistakes, and he was raised to meet the requirements of righteousness for us.

This is the Word of the Lord
Thanks be to God

Abraham is held up in the Romans passage as the height of believing. Paul paints a picture through the stories with which he grew up. It’s a portrait of of a man who’s righteousness was counted to him because he believed what God said. Genesis weaves a different tapestry. It’s not a different character than Paul’s, just a more complex version of the story. In the Genesis passage, Abram is full of questions. Knowing the story of Genesis 15 and reading Paul’s interpretation in Romans 4 leaves me with the question Abraham, what are you afraid of?

I imagine Abraham responding, I’m afraid that I’m too old for the promise. I’m afraid that I won’t be able to respond to what I know God is doing in the world. I’m afraid that this wrinkled body, this tired mind, will fail somehow, and I won’t get to see God’s promise fulfilled.
Abraham, what are you afraid of?

I’m afraid that all that God has given to me will pass to Eleizar of Damascus. I’m afraid that everything I’ve built will pass out of the hands of my family and into the hands of another. I’m afraid that I will not be able to leave something behind that will outlive me. I’m afraid that the things around me that carry my memories will be sold because they won’t mean anything to the one who possesses them. They’re not just trinkets, they’re artifacts from my story, and I cherish the moments of which they remind me.

Abraham, what are you afraid of?

I’m afraid that my wife Sarah, whom I love, has lost out on the promise. I’m afraid that her body is not up to the task and that I will have to go someplace where she cannot follow. I’m afraid that her story and mine are no longer the same. I’m afraid that she has no part to play, for her womb is dead, and though God has promised children, I do not see how it can happen. I know the promise is there, but I don’t see how it will happen, and that makes me afraid.

Abraham, what are you afraid of?

I’m afraid for my life! I’m not a young man anymore, I thought I could live out my days in the city my father built, the city that shares its name with my brother who died. I’m afraid that I live in a strange land where people do not know me, and where I do not know them.

Abraham, what are you afraid of?

I’m afraid that one day, no one will remember me, that I’ll be a footnote in someone’s family tree, and my story will be lost. I have struggled and succeeded, I have fought and lost, and I am afraid that none of it will matter because those around me won’t care anymore. When the times comes for me to sleep with my ancestors, I am afraid that the ways that God has acted in my life will die with me, and no one will give my testimony. I’m afraid that after I’m gone, people will only say nice things about me, because they do not know the true things to say.


Abraham, what are you afraid of?

I’m afraid that people look at me, at my age, and call me as good as dead. I still have more to offer, but I’m afraid that I’ll get lost in what other people tell me I am. I’m afraid that I’ve outlived my own narrative, and now I’m just waiting for the book to be closed. I’m afraid that I no longer have a say in my own reality, that all I am is what people say about me, because I don’t think I’m as good as dead. I’m afraid that even though God has promised me much, I cannot keep my end of the deal. I’m afraid that by choosing Sarah and me, God has made a mistake, and we don’t have what will be required of us to embody God’s promise for the world.

Abraham, what are you afraid of?

I’m afraid that all these things that I have floating around in my head will hold me back, and I won’t see what God is doing in the world. I know that my fears are real, and I know that God’s promise is as well. I know that God is wholly reliable, but I am afraid that I will miss God’s promise. I have faith in God, but I’m afraid that my faith has no effect and the promise has been cancelled. I am afraid that I am beyond hope. God has promised me much, but “LORD God, how do I know that I will actually possess it?”
In spite of all these questions we can image Abraham having, “He was fully convinced that God was able to do what he promised. Therefore it was credited to him as righteousness.” Like the Abram of Genesis 15, we have questions, doubts, and much fear. But Paul shows us Abraham not full of fear, but “when it is beyond hope, he had faith.” And when Abram was filled with fear, he chose instead to have faith in the LORD, and it was credited to him as righteousness. These are two impressions of the same man, chosen by God to give glory to God. God who raised Jesus our Lord from the dead. So we can ask Abraham a new question. A question to which we already know the answer.

Abraham, what do you have faith in?

My faith is in the God of my father, who is the author of all creation. I have faith in the God who is beyond time, and who’s promises are upheld in every age. My faith is in the God who does not fail, even when I cannot see how it will happen, my faith is that God will make it happen. My faith is in the stories my father and mother told me as a child. Stories about God’s faithfulness, passed down in the family to whom I am connected. Stories that cannot be forgotten, because they are the stories that create reality for all of creation. My faith is in the God who calls things that don’t exist into existence. My faith is that even though the part I have played in this story may be lost, the story still remains. Because it is not only my story, but yours, and ours, and God’s.


Abram’s faith was credited to him as righteousness, and he only had a few stories to hold up. For Abraham, it was the promise of a child. But the child of promise is not just Isaac or Ishmael. The child of promise is something that Abraham could not have imagined. Abraham wandered the promised land generations before his descendants would call it their home. And Generations after those who settled there, his descendant would be born in Bethlehem, and play out a pageant that we have seen and know to be true. We have seen so much more of God’s glory than Abraham could have imagined. Like Abraham, we are sometimes caught up in our fear. But we know that the faith of Jesus Christ is credited to us even more than Abraham’s faith is credited to him.

“[Jesus] was handed over because of our mistakes, and he was raised to meet the requirements for us.” The requirements are met, the promise is made, and it has been credited to us as righteousness before we have a chance to debate it. We do not have to earn it, in fact we cannot. But neither can we lose it, “the promise is secure for all of Abraham’s descendants, not just for those who are related by Law but also for those who are related by the faith of Abraham, who is the father of all of us.” The promise is secure not because of anything we have done or left undone. The promise is secure because God says so.

And when we ask of ourselves the same question we have asked of Abraham, “Christian, what do you have faith in?” The answers can ring out with confidence, because our faith is in the God who gives life to the dead and calls things that don’t exist into existence. Our faith is that when we poor sinners make a mess of this world, God doesn’t stop at cleaning up the mess, God cleans the sinners. God has declared that God will be with us and our own sinful nature cannot stop him. Like a mother who will not forsake her nursing child, like a father who welcomes the prodigal home, the requirements of righteousness have already been met.

Even when our faith falters and we revert to our fears, God still keeps God’s promises. Even when we cannot let our statement of faith rise up from within us, even when we cannot whisper our own faith, the faith of Abraham is counted as ours. Even more, the faith of Jesus our Lord is counted to us. We don’t have to be good enough, we don’t have to have enough faith. God is good enough, and faithful enough, to carry out the redemptive promise.

So don’t be afraid, says the LORD, I am your protector. How freeing is that? How freeing is the promise that we are a redeemed people, and there’s nothing that is not already taken care of? “The promise to Abraham and to his descendants, that he would inherit the world, didn’t come through the Law, but through the righteousness that comes from faith.” The faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, who “was handed over because of our mistakes, and he was raised to meet the requirements of righteousness for us.”

So to answer Abram’s final question, “LORD God, how do I know that I will actually posses it?” You know it because God sweeps away all that we have to fear, and frees us to act in faith, rather than fear.

Amen.
Focus: God is faithful in spite of our fears.
Function: To encourage people to act out of faith, rather than fear.