Being Faithful

Genesis 15: 1-18

 “Being Faithful”

21 February 2106 St. Andrew’s Military Chapel Singapore

            Abram is rightly lifted up to us as a paragon of faith. Much like David, we are extolled to be like him because he is the father of our faith. In fact, three major faith groups claim him as the father. We call Christianity, Judaism, and Islam Abrahamic faith groups.

For 15 verses in Hebrews 11, Paul extols the faith of Abraham (the longest description of faith in what some call the Faith Hall of Fame). Paul tells us that in faith, Abraham set out to an unknown place and stayed there longer than expected living out of tents. His faith provided him and Sarah protection and allowed them to overcome infertility. Most famously, in faith Abraham marched Isaac up a hill and laid him on an altar as a sacrifice to God. Thankfully, God stepped in just in the knick of time. And we also remember Abram (or Abraham as God changes his name a little later in time) for these deeds.

Unfortunately, much like David, we like to point to certain righteous episodes in Abram’s life as what a life of faith looks like. With David, the whole Bathsheba and Uriah episodes are glossed over or turned into a leadership lesson for military leaders. With Abram, we tend to ignore how he disowned Sarah, who Ishmael’s mother was, how he and Sarah laughed at God (though to their credit they did recognized angels in their midst during that story), and how in this story Abram actually has the audacity to question God directly.

Maybe it’s because our society likes winners and is quick to allow for second chances that we gloss over these stories. Maybe it’s because we want happy endings and are scared to attribute any struggle to God’s hand, so we just write god given struggles off to evil’s residence in the world. Maybe we still cling to the ancient idea that if you aren’t succeeding, aren’t blessed, then karma, Murphy’s Law, bad luck, etc. is having it’s way with you because you aren’t a true believer. It leads us to think that questioning our faith is a lack of faith. And that way of thinking is very dangerous, and frankly unbiblical.

It’s ok to question one’s faith. In fact, I’d argue it’s essential to strengthening one’s faith. Life will always throw a curve ball when everything tells us to expect the heat right down the middle. Typically, the questions lead us deeper into Scripture and our own understandings and interpretations that we are more confident in our faith. This leads to further questions, thus repeating a very healthy cycle.

Sometimes things happen that we have no control over that leads to questions. In those situations, people on the outside typically call the situation a faith crisis. I’d like to have us erase that phrase from our theological vocabulary. In this passage, an outsider may accuse Abram and Sarai of a faith crisis, but they are asking God a legitimate and important question. God promised them they would be the beginning of a great nation, but they are as yet unable to conceive a child.

            We enter this story at the point where Abram has had enough of the blind following. Or maybe the blind following has him thinking deeply about his faith and has lead to questions, doubts. He was promised something and is getting old, so he questions God, “What are you going to do for me because I still don’t have a child? Are you going to fulfill your covenant with me through one of my slaves?”

            The father of our faith had questions. Important ones. Questions we all ask in difficult times. Faith and trust are synonymous more so than faith and blessed. Sometimes we fall into the American trap of thinking our faith manifests itself in the outward appearance of a good life, what many would call a blessed life.

            One of my instructors from seminary recently had a piece published in the New York Times Sunday Reader. In it she states:

            “Over the last 10 years, ‘being blessed’ has become a full-fledged American phenomenon. Drivers can choose between the standard, mass-produced ‘Jesus is Lord’ novelty license plate or ‘Blessed’ for $16.99 in a tasteful aluminum. When an ‘America’s Next Top Model’ star took off his shirt, audiences saw it tattooed above his bulging pectorals. When Americans boast on Twitter about how well they’re doing on Thanksgiving, #blessed is the standard hashtag. It is the humble brag of the stars. #Blessed is the only caption suitable for viral images of alpine vacations and family yachting in barely there bikinis. It says: ‘I totally get it. I am down-to-earth enough to know that this is crazy.’ But it also says: ‘God gave this to me. Don’t blame me, I’m blessed.’

            “Blessed is a loaded term because it blurs the distinction between two very different categories: gift and reward. It can be a term of pure gratitude. ‘Thank you, God. I could not have secured this for myself. For being the kind of person who gets it right.’ It is a perfect word for an American society that says it believes the American dream is based on hard work, not luck

            “If Oprah could eliminate a single word, it would be ‘luck.’ ‘Nothing about my life is lucky,’ she argued on her cable show. ‘Nothing. A lot of grace. A lot of blessings. A lot of divine order. But I don’t believe in luck. For me luck is preparation meeting the moment of opportunity.’ This is America, where there are no setbacks, just setups. Tragedies are simply tests of character.

            “It is the reason a neighbor knocked on our door to tell my husband that everything happens for a reason.

            “I’d love to hear it,’ my husband said.

            “Pardon?’ she said, startled.

            “I’d love to hear the reason my wife is dying,’ he said, in that sweet sour way he has.”

            Kate goes on to conclude the article saying, “but mostly I find the daily lives of believers remarkable and, often, inspirational. They face the impossible and demand that God make a way.” Sounds a bit like Abram demanding God to come through with his ridiculous promise of descendants greater than the stars in the heavens.

            I frequently attend the Montreat Youth Conference during the summers I am not half way around the world from North Carolina. My favorite role is to volunteer as the College Work Crew Coordinator where I work with students who are at least a year out of college and we work as the behind the scenes sherpas to help the conference run. It lets me meet not only some amazing students, but I really get to know all the other volunteers and their families.

            One family I have been blessed to meet is the family of a gifted photographer, Michael. He does that work full time and has even been credentialed by both Florida and Florida State which allowed him to go to the national title game in Pasadena a few years ago, among other high level athletic events around the country. Not just Michael, but his wife and two daughters ooze the love of Christ and are a family I always hope to find on the same team of volunteers the years I get to attend Montreat.

            Last Sunday, my Facebook feed exploded with the news of his youngest daughter’s tragic death in a car accident. She was only 20. I just looked at the screen in shock for a long time when I woke up Monday morning. Laura was just a beacon of light wherever she stood. I can’t imagine their pain, I can’t offer words because there are none.

            I haven’t talked to them, other than sending a message like hundreds of others of the Montreat and Jacksonville families. It wouldn’t surprise me if they, like Abram and Sarai are asking deep, hard questions of God right now. For I know that everyone whom Laura touched with her infectious personality are asking questions as my news feed can attest. And, I can confidently proclaim, there is no way that is a lack of faith. Amidst the questioning there is trust that God will make sense of that tragedy somehow as a week later I am continuing to see photos with the #LivelikeLaura. It takes an unbelievable amount of trust to seek and speak beauty into unspeakable tragedy. And that, my friends, is faith.

Faith isn’t just believing, it isn’t just confessing, it isn’t following rules. It is trusting God. It is trusting that God is there. Even in the midst of infertility, cancer, tragedy, fill in the blank. I can doubt his motives, I can question his methods, I can yell at him for causing pain, and I can wonder why certain things happen in a certain order.

            But, the fact that I am asking means that I trust God is there. That God is real. That it all matters and means something. Despite our doubts, or maybe because of our doubts, we can trust in God not really knowing what is next, climbing out of a valley confident God is there. And that’s a faith I can believe in. That’s a faith I want to believe in. That’s the faith I strive for.