Showing posts with label Genesis 15. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Genesis 15. Show all posts

Monday, August 1, 2016

The Future is. . . What?! – 7 August 2016 – 11th Sunday after Pentecost/ Lectionary 19/ Proper 14

How often we look around us and long for a path toward faith and hope in the midst of much anxiety! Our world is replete with seemingly intractable violence in many lands and uncertainties about who shall lead us. Today is no exception.

In the face of impossible hopes, as with Abram, God takes us by the hand and shows us the stars – a heaven filled with mysterious and distant lights that cannot be counted. They reveal the limitlessness of God’s promises which hold out hope for peace in the way Julian of Norwich insisted, writing: “all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.”

How are we to grasp this?

Luke 12:32-40

The Gospel story shows us a stance to take, an approach to the things of this world, a measurement for what we value, and a caution about the dangers.

Today's gospel reading. . . collects a number of Jesus' teachings regarding how his followers are to ready themselves for God's impending future, that is, what living faithfully is to look like in terms of our behavior. First he underlines the gift-character of salvation with the encouragement: “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom” (v 32, emphasis added).

Secondly, he recommends a series of actions consistent with last week's readings' emphasis on not investing oneself in the pursuit of transient earthly wealth, culminating in the assurance that “where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (See the commentary on last week's texts.)

And thirdly, with a greatly abbreviated reference to the much more elaborate end-time parable of the ten virgins we find in Matthew 25, he recommends an active and alert stance toward the impending future, a stance of ready waiting “for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.” One might call this attitude of urgent anticipation “faith-filled hope.” – John Rollefson

Genesis 15:1-6

While the Gospel gives us the prospect of readiness to hope, the Genesis story gives us companionship with God in the night, even at the moment of despair.

In the poignant image of God pointing Abram to the stars (I picture a clear, cold, windless midnight hour with the lights of the heavens twinkling, thick and sharp) we see with Abram the abundance of God’s promised future. We are incredulous, because when we look around us at the world’s disappointments in our individual lives and that of the nations, a future of such brightness and vastness seems impossible. The moment for Abraham appears to be like ours: Where is the least inkling that hope is not futile? Where is Abram’s first heir?

[T]here is as . . . yet no sign of the offspring needed to get the promise started toward fulfillment, and the clock is ticking. It's not until the next chapter that Sarai will try to jump-start the promise by offering her slave-girl Hagar as a surrogate. As soon will become evident, this only complicates matters, and such human improvisation in trying to help the promise along isn't what Yahweh has in mind.

But most significant for today's theme is the story's conclusion: “And he (Abram) believed the Lord; and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness.”

From St. Paul in his Letter to the Romans, chapter 4, through the Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification officially ratified by the 1999 Vatican and the Lutheran World Federation, this passage has been key in the church's efforts to understand the mystery of how it is that God justifies (reckons righteous), by grace through faith, us fallen descendants of Adam and Eve. – John Rollefson

Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16

Finally, we receive a summation of the truth about faith: It is not logical. What we hope for is not visible.

The author's succinct definition of faith as “the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (v 1) is borne out in the conclusion drawn from the history of the faithful, all of whom “died in faith without having received the promises, but from a distance they saw and greeted them” (v 13a). This throws faith into its appropriate attitude of leaning into the future to which a promise always leads where its fulfillment is awaited in what both Paul (Romans 8:24–25, e.g.) and the Psalmist (33:22) call “hope.”

. . . The author's description of the faithful as “strangers and foreigners (sojourners) on the earth…seeking a homeland” is an apt description of the pilgrim character of the church, bringing us full circle back to father Abraham whose first recorded act of faith was to respond to God's call to “Go from your country and your kindred and your father's house to the land that I will show you” in trusting obedience, “not knowing where he was going” (v 8b). . .

We cannot prove that we are justified to have faith and hope. Rather, faith and hope feed each other and we come by them most possibly with our eyes (see the stars!) and ears (hear the word of God!) open to what is impossible… and yet true.


John Rollefson is a pastor in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. He has served congregations in Los Angeles, Ann Arbor, Milwaukee, and San Francisco.


Homily Service 40, no. 9 (2007): 13-22.

Monday, February 15, 2016

The Fox and the Hen – 21 February 2016 – Second Sunday in Lent

Jesus weeps over Jerusalem. Abram wants assurance that God’s promises are real. Paul says to “stand firm.” Tough images. Just telling us what we ought to do doesn’t necessarily make it possible. Yet these are appropriate images for this second week of Lent when we are beginning to learn again the disciplines of fasting, prayer, and almsgiving, for it is in the midst of what does not seem to be bearing fruit, what seems hopeless and Godforsaken, that we find our greatest strength in faith.

God’s holy word holds up for us images of power and comfort – both essential for continuing to cling to hope in a troubled world.

Luke 13:31-35

Some people think Lent is a brooding season. We brood over our sins and our need for God. We use the serious color of purple to call us to reflection and repentance. We may fast to open our eyes and hearts to that which is most important in life.

But there's another kind of brood. It's the offspring of animals that lay eggs. The brood of a hen is her bunch of chicks. . . .

Jesus uses such imagery in our gospel today. But first he talks about a fox: Herod the predator. Herod is out to get Jesus. Jesus is the one being hunted. Jesus is on the way to Jerusalem, the holy city of God. There he will meet his fate and give his life. There he will meet rejection. Yes, Jerusalem symbolizes the rejection of the prophets and the rejection of the ways of God. Yet let us not limit it to Jews or people of that time. All of us turn from God. . . .

So Jesus broods over Jerusalem. He laments over a city that closes its heart to the unfolding of God's promises. And then he gets to the brooding metaphor. . . .

Jesus compares himself to a mother hen. It's one of the few feminine images for God in the New Testament. We're much more apt to talk about Jesus the shepherd, the vine, the light, the bread of life. . . .  

The ancient religions of Egypt, Canaan, and the Greco-Roman world featured mother goddess worship. In reaction to these other religions, the Bible rarely uses mother images for God. Yet the scriptures do use the image of mothering animals to speak of God.
– Craig Mueller

Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18

God's promise is unfulfilled and, in light of Sarah and Abraham's age, it looks to be impossible of fulfillment. Even faithful Abraham's first reply to God in today's first reading reflects the waning of hope: What does it matter what you give me; I have no child; my heir is a slave born in my house. . . 

But God has a way of never giving up on the recipients of the divine promises. So God takes Abram outside to look at the stars. . . – Paul G. Bieber

The image of hope for Abraham and Sarah is in the stars, a smoking pot, and a flaming torch, all tangible objects, material, pieces of God’s creation. What God has fashioned as this material world speaks to us of God’s promises. Yet…

Philippians 3:17-4:1

I confess that, on occasion, I find Paul's dualism between flesh and spirit quite troubling; hard to swallow, really. In a passage such as this, does Paul not risk a denial of the incarnation? Even if we grant a spirit/flesh distinction, as Paul would have it, must we assign all the negative value to the flesh as he does, and all the positive value to the spirit? . .

In fairness to Paul, he is concerned to combat a kind of proto-Gnostic libertinism: if we are released from the body, then we need not trouble ourselves to restrain our passions. . . While our lives here might be transitory, we might gently remind Paul and remind ourselves, they are not without value. God, at least, certainly saw some value in giving flesh to us, in giving flesh to God's incarnate Word, and in restoring spirit to flesh in the resurrection of Jesus and of the rest of us on the last day. – Jeffrey VanderWilt

What does this Second Sunday in Lent move us to envision? How can creation itself become for us an inspiration to continue in our disciplines and care about our neighbors? What is the power of the hen against the power of the fox? That is our puzzle today and our best hope for preaching the good news.


Paul Bieber is pastor of All Saints Lutheran Church, San Diego, California.  

Craig M. Mueller is pastor of Holy Trinity Lutheran Church, Chicago, Illinois.

Jeffery VanderWilt, author of Communion with Non-Catholic Christians (Collegville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2003), teaches at Santa Margarita Catholic High School in Southern California.


Homily Service 40, no. 4 (2007): 3-12.