Tuesday, June 27, 2017

God’s Creative Connection, Part 4: Creating Promise out of Pain


Last week there was an interesting news item from Saudi Arabia. The crown prince was removed from the line of succession. Saudi Arabia is a monarchy that has been ruled by the House of Saud for many generations, a large clan with many princes standing in line waiting for the possible chance to become king. The current king has been on the throne for only two years. Just a few days ago, he removed the crown prince, who is his nephew, in favor of the next-in-line prince – who is his son.
Not a terrible great surprise, of course, that he would want to give this to his own son. But that he actually did it, upending centuries of tradition, that was a surprise. It is an interesting reminder that ancient family rivalries still exist. We haven’t outgrown them.
There are times in the course of studying the book of Genesis I am very aware of what an old, old story it is. But when I consider stories like this one out of Saudi Arabia, I am reminded that some things never change.
Let’s put today’s text into context. For many years, God has promised Abraham a son. But after decades of trying and hoping and praying, Sarah and Abraham were still childless. Remember the story we read last week, where messengers from God came to say Sarah would bear a child in due time – at the age of 90. And neither Abraham nor Sarah could do anything but laugh at the absurdity.
Abraham and Sarah had stopped believing that God would give them a child. So they had taken things into their own hands. Sometime before that visit of the three divine messengers, Sarah had made the decision to give her slave Hagar to Abraham, in the hope that Hagar would become pregnant in her stead. Abraham would have an heir, and Sarah would, by rights of ownership, have a son.
We could tell right away that this was not going to go well. Immediately, Sarah was overcome by jealousy. A pregnant Hagar was simply too much for Sarah to bear, and in her rage she made Hagar’s life hell.
Hagar ran away, out into the wilderness, with no plan, no good options. She couldn’t bear the thought of living under Sarah’s rule anymore.
That was the first time Hagar heard the voice of God speaking to her. Out in the wilderness God told Hagar the plans he had for her. She would bear a son who would be called Ishmael, which means the Lord hears. God tells Hagar that her son Ishmael will live at odds with all his kin. But he will, indeed live. Hagar responds by naming this God whom she has never before heard. She calls him El-Roi, meaning “God sees.”
Hagar does then return to Sarah and in due time gives birth to Abraham’s first born son.  And so, perhaps, they assumed the matter of the promised child had been settled, and they were quite surprised when the mysterious messengers came to them saying Sarah would have a child. By this time, Ishmael was at least ten years old.
When Sarah’s son, Isaac, was old enough to be weaned, probably around two years old, Abraham threw a celebration for him. But, once again, the old rivalry emerged between the two mothers. Once again, Sarah is afraid. She is afraid the child Ishmael will take something away from her son.
This is not a pretty emotion. We don’t admire Sarah for her fear and jealousy and lack of faith she so often exposes. But, even so, we might understand in some small way, the protectiveness. Yes, Sarah’s faith is smaller than it should be, but our faith is often smaller than it should be.
And yes, it might shock us that Sarah seems to care nothing about the welfare of Ishmael or Hagar. But to her, it is a question of survival and the protection of her own blood. Ishmael is not her blood – only Isaac is.
So Hagar and Ishmael are banished to the wilderness, although it seems to grieve Abraham deeply. He gets up early in the morning with her, gives her a skin of water and some bread, which he surely knows is not enough. And with some tenderness, but no real sense of responsibility, sends her on her way. He says goodbye to his son, probably not expecting to see him again.
We are told Hagar wanders about the wilderness – wanders! We have to wonder about this a little. Does she not realize the danger? Or is she already, at the outset, drained of hope? Does Hagar have any expectation that she and Ishmael will survive this journey?
In a way, Hagar is in a situation much like Sarah was. A promise has been given, but it is hard to see how that promise can be fulfilled. How does faith sustain itself in a time and place like this? How do you hold on to hope in a hopeless place?
There are countless stories to be told about women like Hagar, who find themselves in a situation that appears hopeless. One of them, we read in our book club last month – Enrique’s Journey, tells a story about women like Hagar. Central American who find themselves alone with their children, unable to make a living for themselves and their children, are faced with stark choices. They face barriers of economic injustice, sexism, and ageism that prevent them from the possibility of supporting their families. It isn’t about being able to buy the children iPhones – it is about being able to give them food and send them to school.
In an earlier time, it would have been their husbands stealing across borders to find work and support their families back home in Honduras, Guatemala, or Mexico. These journeys made in the hopes that the children would make a better life than their parents ever could. But in an age of broken families, so often now it is the women making the trip. They leave their children behind with grandmothers, aunts, neighbors – or alone. The fathers have disappeared; the mothers are the only ones to go, to make this dangerous journey, for the sake of the children.
Enrique’s mother, Lourdes, made this journey, leaving her daughter with a grandmother, and her son, Enrique, with his father. But soon Enrique’s father abandoned him, and then Enrique was essentially alone, drifting from one relative to another. And every day, Lourdes was faced with the choice of staying in the US where she could earn enough money to support her children, and returning home where she could hold them in her arms. She had to choose between giving them the security of a future and the security of her love. What would you do?
While we have not had to make these kinds of choices, anyone who has ever loved anyone might have some sympathy, some compassion, for the Hagars and the Lourdeses of the world; for the woman who is faced with protecting her child from the harsh world, and finding that she is no match for the harshness of the world; for the woman forced to let go of her child and look for hope somewhere else.
The book of Genesis doesn’t tell us much at all about Hagar. She wanders the wilderness until she runs out of water, then she leaves her child Ishmael in the shade and goes off a way from him, where she gives in to her grief. She cries out – and God hears. God hears Hagar and Ishmael and leads them to water.
We don’t get to know much of anything about Hagar from the book of Genesis – this is the last we hear of her. But Hagar plays a very important role in another religion: Islam. The story told in Islamic tradition is that Hagar did not just sit down and cry after running out of water. She ran up to the top of one mountain, As Safa, to see if there was anyone who could help her. Seeing no one, she ran down and then up a mountain opposite, Al Marwa, to see if there was anyone on that side. Hagar is said to have traced this path seven times, desperately seeking help, before she heard the voice of God speaking to her, guiding her to the source of water that would save Hagar and Ishmael and the generations to come.
Together, the two stories, from Genesis and from Islam, tell us something about survival and hope. Hagar could not save her son without God’s help. I believe she knew that. I think we all have had moments in life when we knew that without God’s help, we ourselves and our loved ones would be without hope. So we pray. We listen and look. We go out in search of what we need, for ourselves and our loved ones, because we believe and we hope that, one way or another, God will provide. God will abide with us, wherever we are. God will be faithful to God’s promises. And for this we are grateful.
All thanks be to God.


Photo: “Riyadh had several days of significant rain earlier in the week, which is why we found pools of water in a gully that leads into the wadi.”  Peter Dowley from Dubai, United Arab Emirates - Water in the desert! https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=32187831

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