June 23, 2002

Genesis 21:8-21

 Our scripture today takes us back to Genesis, the first book of the bible, back to the beginning of our faith, it’s where we’ve been the past few weeks.  Last week we heard the story of Noah and the Ark in two ways - the 9 o’clock service heard Rich preach about Noah and the covenant God made with him, never to destroy the earth and all that lives in it again, and  at the 10:45 service you got to see our children’s tell the story of Noah’s with a musical called the Technicolor Promise.

 And two weeks ago we heard the beginnings of Abraham and Sarah’s journey as the chosen ones of God, Abraham and Sarah being our ancestors in the faith;  in chapter  12 God said to Abraham "Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you.  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."  It’s the beginning of the covenant between God and the Jews;  and because we are all made one in Christ, it is the beginning of our covenant with God as well.

 Well, since the time God said, "Go" and Abraham and Sarah went, to where we are today a lot has happened and I want to fill you in briefly.

 God has promised Abraham and Sarah certain things;  land, people, blessings; descendants; their own nation.  Occasionally,   Abraham and Sarah have gotten tired of waiting for God to fulfill these promises so they try to fulfill them on their own by taking matters into their own hands.  At that point things usually go awry,  God steps in and straightens things out and then they continue on their journey.

 Abraham was 75 when God spoke to him and since then he and Sarah have traveled through Egypt, had some trouble there with the Pharoah when Abraham tried to pass Sarah off as his sister, but God got them out of it.  After several years Sarah, thinking she was barren and would never have children of her own, thus never be able to fulfill God’s promise of being the mother of a nation, decided to help the promise along a little.  So she gave her maid servant Hagar to Abraham to lie with him as his wife and Hagar who bore him a son, Ishmael.  Abraham was 86 years old when Ishmael was born.  That caused all kinds of problems  as you can imagine but still Abraham and Sarah hang onto the promises that God made.  When Abraham was 99 years old, the Lord appeared to him again,  and said:  I told you I will make of you a great nation.  Your wife Sarah will have a child.  And she does.  Their son Issac is born.  And they, and we, can see that the promises of God are about to be fulfilled.

 But there’s a problem.  Ishmael, the son of Hagar, Sarah’s maidservant, is still around and this is causing Sarah some anxiety.  This brings us to our scripture reading today.   Chapter 21.

 Every once in a while I come across a bible passage that I have trouble with, that I’d change if I could.  This is one of them.

  If it was up to me,  I would rewrite this story  so that Sarah and Hagar got along - played well together like their children did, and when it was time for Hagar  to leave it was on good terms - maybe they had a going away party for her - and there was no anger or animosity or sadness.   And I’d have written it so Hagar didn’t have to wander in the desert for too long, maybe another servant or two went with her to keep her company, and that right before her wineskin ran out of water - she found a well  - so she didn’t have to worry.  In my story there would be no pain or suffering whatsoever and they would all live happily ever after.  That’s my kind of story.

 Instead we have a story that reminds us that life is often unfair, at times very hard, it can be filled with animosity and jealousy, worry and despair, yet in the midst of all the pain and suffering, there is mercy and grace, too.

 Having said that, let me tell you what I like and don’t like about this story.

 I don’t like that Hagar was cast out from her family, from her home because Sarah didn’t want Ishamael to inherit God’s promises along with her son, Issac.   I don’t like that she was sent into the desert by Abraham with only a loaf of bread and a wineskin filled with water.   It doesn’t seem fair.  Now I know life is not fair. Bad things happen to good people.  Good things happen to bad people.  People we love get sick, people we love die.  We lose jobs we shouldn’t lose,  children who loved us when they were 12, hate us when they turn 13:  life is unfair.

  And when unfair things happen,  it makes us question God. What kind of God would allow these things to be?
  What kind of God would allow a young mother and her son to be sent out into the desert?  We don’t like to think that our God would act so unfairly.  And yet...half of what we think is unfair is really God working his purposes out in ways we might not expect or agree with.   Hagar needed to be sent away so both Ishmael and Issac would be a great nation; would inherit their own promises, would have their own descendants.    I still don’t like that she had to go...and that’s o.k.  I think God understands.

And I don’t like that Hagar was sent into the desert - into the wilderness of Beer-sheba - where wandered around wondering whether she and her young son were going to die.  When her water ran out she was filled with such despair she put her child under a bush, walked away so that she would not have to watch him die and wept.  I hate that for Hagar,  for a brief while,  God was silent.

 And I hate that sometimes for us,  God is silent, too.

 A friend I’ve known since childhood - we both grew up in the church, went to youth group together, were married in the same church - she lost her sister to breast cancer seven years ago and then her mother to ovarian cancer three years ago.
She has been unable to step inside a church since, she feels God let her down, abandoned her and she’s given up on religion and faith.  And there’s nothing any of us can do or say to change how she feels.   In her eyes, God has been silent for a very long time.

 I think many of us have felt God’s silence before.  We’ve  been in situations  - we’ve wandered in our own wilderness a time or two - in pain and despair , waiting for a word, a whisper, anything from God and it appears we get nothing.

 Like the psalmists before us,  we wonder where God is, why God is allowing us to suffer, why God is being silent when we’re so desperately in need.

 Listen to the words of the psalmist in Psalm 81.  He writes:  O God, do not keep silence;  do not hold your peace or be still, O God!   Even Jesus wondered about God’s silence on the cross.  My God, my God, why has thou forsaken me, he cried.

 Even though we may know in our head and in our heart that God is all is very much with us,  the truth is... sometimes it feels like God is silent.  And one of the hardest things our faith asks us to do is...to trust in God when it feels like God isn’t there.   To keep going, even when you don’t feel like it, to keep praying, when when it doesn’t seem like God is answering, to keep believing when you’re not sure what you’re believing anymore.

 I hate that for Hagar, God was silent and she had to suffer,  I hate that sometimes for us, God is silent and we have to suffer, too.

 And yet, what I love about this passage is in the midst of all the pain and suffering, there is mercy and grace.  There is always mercy and grace.

  Just when Hagar has reached the end of her rope - just when she has given up her son for dead, when she has given up herself - God hears her cries, hears her son’s cries and speaks.

 "Do not be afraid,  an angel of the Lord says, come lift up the boy and hold him fast with your hand, for I will make a great nation of him." And the silence is broken.

 And we are reminded that even during those times we feel God is  silent - God is very much holding us tight - like the footprints poem Gina shared us earlier - and even though it may feel like it may never happen, at some point God will speak again,  we will know God’s presence in a very real way,  the silence will be broken.

 Then God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water.  She went and filled the skin with water, and gave the boy a drink.  And we all know what water is...     it’s life...     both literally and metaphorically.   At the well there is nourishment, at the well there is hope, at the well there is life.

 I love that God gave Hagar a well.

 And I love that God didn’t just miraculously put the well there...  it was there all the time...God just opened Hagar’s eyes so she could see it.

 Which makes me wonder about all the times in our lives and I know it’s happened in mine, where it looked like we were going to die of thirst - then we discovered that there was a well there all along - a well filled with  nourishment, hope and life, and we didn’t see it until our eyes were opened.  Until our eyes were opened by God.

 It happens to me every time I move.  I remember clearly moving from Richmond, Virginia - this wonderful southern city where we had friends and a great church community, a great school community, in Richmond it was spring in March until May and then it got a little warmer but you just sat on your porch with a fan and an iced tea and everything was fine.  I loved Richmond.  Then  I got my first call to be a minister to Westport, Ct.   I was excited to begin my first job as a pastor so up we packed and went.

 Well...Westport couldn’t be more different from Richmond and after we go there I was sure God had made a mistake and I spent night after night crying and wondering what I had done.  I may have mentioned before that I have trouble letting go of things; people and places, things.  Somewhere out there, there’s a T-shirt  that says, "everything I’ve ever let go of has claw marks in it" and when I find that T-shirt I’m going to buy a dozen of them and never let go of them.   Anyway, I was miserable for months;  Brad was fine, the boys were fine, the dog was fine.  I was the only one walking around in wilderness, thinking God had abandoned me, that God was silent, wondering what would become of me now.  (I can also be pretty melodramatic at times...)

 Then one day  I  was visiting a homebound member of the church, one of the finest women I’ve ever met,  and during the course of our conversation - I’m sure I was rambling on and on about nothing in particular - she all of a sudden reached out, held my hand and said, "You’re going to be just fine, you know." And in that moment, God opened my eyes - and the well of water was right in front of me - in the shape of a new and caring congregation who was reaching out to me, just waiting for me to take their hand.  My eyes had been shut so tightly I just couldn’t see.  And once my eyes were opened, I  was o.k.

  I love that God gives us a well when we need it.  And much of the time it’s there all along.

 In the end God was with the boy - God was with Ishmael - as he grew, which I think is as close to living happily ever after as you get.   So maybe, this is my kind of story after all.

   The story of Hagar reminds us that life is often unfair, at times very hard, it can be filled with animosity and jealousy, worry and despair, yet in the midst of all the pain and suffering, there is mercy and grace, too.

 And it reminds us that our God is good.  And I love that, too.

 Let’s pray...

 Merciful and compassionate God...we may not always understand or agree with or like how you work in our lives, yet you work in us anyway and love us anyway.   We are thankful that you are with us on our journeys, through the difficult times as well as the good, reaching out to us in mercy and grace in so many ways.  Help us to see the wonder of your ways, the goodness of your love as you work out your purposes in the world, in your church, in this church and in our lives.  Amen.