OT Lectionary

For those who want a change from the Gospel

Trinity 2  – Genesis 18:1-15 (Related)

The Epistle for today, from Romans 5, contains the well-known line about suffering bringing hope, which does not disappoint us, or put us to shame. But what when it does? Abraham had been told 25 years earlier, in Genesis 12:7, that the land would be given to his offspring, and that he would be the father of many nations (Gen 15). But Sarah his wife remained stubbornly childless. Abraham, faced with this hope which certainly had disappointed him because they had been unable to have children, tries in two different ways to help God out. First he decides that what God really meant was that Eliezer of Damascus, his chief servant, who was no doubt like a son to him, should be his heir, and then he follows the custom of having a child with Hagar, Sarah’s servant. Neither of these approaches really work out, though, and indeed the Arab-Israeli conflict of today could be traced back to the animosity between Isaac and Ishmael. But what must it have been like for Abraham and Sarah living through those years, with monthly reminders that God had not acted, and with the sense that the biological clocks were ticking and time was fast running out?

Our passage begins with the unexpected arrival of ‘three men’ (18:2) who eventually become ‘The Lord’ in v.13 (v. 10 simply uses the pronoun – ‘Then he said …’) Like a good Middle Eastern host Abraham makes them welcome, but he must have been suspicious when in v.9 they appear to know his wife’s name, and when they cut right to the chase with the reiterated promise from 15:4. These are not merely men, and they are soon recognised for who they are, whether angels, or the Trinity incarnate. 25 years on, God still means what he said, and the fact that the couple are approaching their century makes no difference.

Sarah can’t believe it – why would she? – and responds with incredulous laughter. It has been suggested that this is a joyful laugh as, brimming with faith, she celebrates what God is about to do, but the text doesn’t read like that: it’s much more like ‘You’re having a laugh, O Lord!’ She is soon penitent, and tries to lie her way out of the embarrassment, but she has been caught out. She didn’t really believe God would fulfil his promise. The passage leaves her, and us, with the question ‘Is anything too hard for the Lord?’

In my experience, though, this isn’t always the question we are really asking, and that’s why we so often need to protect ourselves from the pain of hope which does in fact disappoint us. I don’t disbelief God’s power to act and to answer my prayers, but I’m never terribly sure about his will. I’m with the guy with leprosy from Mt 8: ‘If you are willing, you can …’ But like Abraham and Sarah I’ve lived with dashed hopes for so long that I need to protect myself from further hope, which will only add to the pain.

We ought to be so powerfully full of faith that even 25 years of waiting does nothing to dent our belief in God’s plans to act. But most of the time we’re not, and we need that self-protection. So I don’t want to be too hard on Sarah. It’s not like me to be pastoral, but I’ve been aware over the years of couples desperate to have children, who have spent thousands on IVF-type treatments but who have still remained childless. For them this isn’t just a story: it’s their life, and the more well-meaning people have given them ‘words from the Lord’ and hopeful promises, the more their disappointment has grown. It’s worth remembering three things from this passage. First of all, God will do what he wants to do, and for many people that means that hope is disappointed – big time. Secondly, the fact that Abraham and Sarah’s story has a happy ending does not invalidate the stories of countless others during the years of Israel’s history who had no such outcome. They may not get the headlines, but they were there, and are every bit as much a part of the biblical experience of God’s people. But thirdly, the one hope which will not disappoint us is that of the place where crying, mourning, pain and death will be no more. Sometimes, sadly, pie in the sky when we die is the only sure and certain hope we have. How we live faithfully until then, disappointments and all, is what we’re all trying to work out.

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