Bloomsbury Central Baptist Church
18th August 2013
Hebrews 11.1-3, 8-19 Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. 2 Indeed, by faith our ancestors received approval. 3 By faith we understand that the worlds were prepared by the word of God, so that what is seen was made from things that are not visible.
18th August 2013
Hebrews 11.1-3, 8-19 Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. 2 Indeed, by faith our ancestors received approval. 3 By faith we understand that the worlds were prepared by the word of God, so that what is seen was made from things that are not visible.
By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to
set out for a place that he was to receive as an inheritance; and he set out,
not knowing where he was going. 9
By faith he stayed for a time in the land he had been promised, as in a foreign
land, living in tents, as did Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the
same promise. 10 For he
looked forward to the city that has foundations, whose architect and builder is
God. 11 By faith he received
power of procreation, even though he was too old-- and Sarah herself was
barren-- because he considered him faithful who had promised. 12 Therefore from one person, and
this one as good as dead, descendants were born, "as many as the stars of
heaven and as the innumerable grains of sand by the seashore." 13 ¶ All of these died in
faith without having received the promises, but from a distance they saw and
greeted them. They confessed that they were strangers and foreigners on the
earth, 14 for people who
speak in this way make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. 15 If they had been thinking of
the land that they had left behind, they would have had opportunity to
return. 16 But as it is, they
desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed
to be called their God; indeed, he has prepared a city for them. 17 ¶ By faith Abraham, when
put to the test, offered up Isaac. He who had received the promises was ready
to offer up his only son, 18
of whom he had been told, "It is through Isaac that descendants shall be
named for you." 19 He
considered the fact that God is able even to raise someone from the dead-- and
figuratively speaking, he did receive him back.
Genesis 17.1-8 When Abram was ninety-nine years old, the LORD
appeared to Abram, and said to him, "I am God Almighty; walk before me,
and be blameless. 2 And I
will make my covenant between me and you, and will make you exceedingly
numerous." 3 Then Abram
fell on his face; and God said to him, 4
"As for me, this is my covenant with you: You shall be the ancestor of a
multitude of nations. 5 No longer
shall your name be Abram, but your name shall be Abraham; for I have made you
the ancestor of a multitude of nations. 6
I will make you exceedingly fruitful; and I will make nations of you, and kings
shall come from you. 7 I will
establish my covenant between me and you, and your offspring after you
throughout their generations, for an everlasting covenant, to be God to you and
to your offspring after you. 8
And I will give to you, and to your offspring after you, the land where you are
now an alien, all the land of Canaan, for a perpetual holding; and I will be
their God."
Promises,
promises, promises…
I
promise I’ll always love you…
I promise to pay the bearer the sum
of ten pounds…
I promise I’ll pray for
you…
I
promise I didn’t do it…
I promise I won’t do it again…
I promise I’ll save you…
I
promise I’ll save everyone…
I
promise your people will be my people,
and I will be their God…
We
all make promises, don’t we?
Some we mean to keep, and do keep.
Some we mean to keep,
and don’t keep.
Some we don’t mean to keep at all,
but we say them anyway.
Promises,
promises, promises…
I
was 16 when I got my first motorbike,
Mum and Dad had promised I could
have one,
and a couple of weeks
before my birthday
they took me
to Tunbridge Wells to buy it
from a nice lady who had
used it for going to the shops.
As
if driving a small underpowered orange motorbike
wasn’t embarrassing enough in
itself,
something
possessed me to plaster the sides of the top-box
with stickers which proclaimed, in
80s style writing,
that ‘God Keeps His Promises’
I
can remember the first time I rode the bike to my grandparents house,
ever so pleased with myself,
and
I showed it to my atheist grandfather,
who simply commented,
‘The thing is, Simon, God’s a clever
so-and-so:
he never actually makes
any promises.’
And
whilst, thankfully, the bike and its stickers are long gone,
to the great scrap-heap in the sky,
the
question of whether God makes promises
and of whether God keeps his
promises,
remains
one of the great theological conundrums
that those who claim to be people of
faith
have to deal with.
It
is one of the questions that Paul addresses
in his letter to the Romans,
and
it also dominates much of the argument
in the book of Hebrews.
Hebrews
is a strange document:
it stands somewhat apart from the
rest of the New Testament,
neither letter nor
gospel,
neither narrative nor
apocalypse,
It
can perhaps best be described as a written-down sermon,
sent to a ‘house church’ of
marginalised Christians,
who had some strong
links to Judaism,
possibly as early as the
middle of the first century,
and possibly in Rome.
Martin
Luther suggested that the author may have been Apollos,
the great preaching rival to Paul
who we meet in the books
of Acts and 1 Corinthians,
and as compelling as this suggestion
is
the bottom line is that
we simply don’t know who wrote it.
However
we do know what they wrote,
and in our passage for this morning,
part of our ‘heroes of
the faith’ series for August,
they wrote about Abraham, and about
the promises of God.
The
gist of what the preacher of Hebrews is saying,
is broadly speaking the same as the
stickers on my motorbike,
which is that God keeps his
promises.
However,
the problem he faces
is that the people he is writing to
are facing persecution,
hardship,
isolation,
and difficulty
as
a result of their decision to follow the path of Christ.
And
so simply asserting that ‘God keeps his promises’
could easily seem like an overly simplistic
answer
to the painful complexities of the realities
of life.
And
so the preacher of Hebrews takes a different tack,
and invites his congregation to
journey with him,
back into the murky mists of the
early Israelite history stories,
to
spend some time with Abraham,
the man who made a promise to save
the world.
The
preacher gives us four short examples from the life of Abraham,
which taken together offer a
perspective
on a life lived out of
the faithful conviction
that God is faithful to
the promises he makes.
For
the first example, in verse 8, the preacher takes us back to the time
when God called Abraham to set out
on a journey,
not knowing where he was
going.
The
second example, in verses 9 and 10,
recalls God’s invitation for Abraham
to look to a future
when the time of nomadic and
tent-based wandering would end
with the gift of a city
with foundations laid by God
In
these two examples, God firstly promises Abraham a home,
and secondly promises his descendants
a destiny
One
day their wandering will end,
one day Abraham’s people will enter
the promised rest.
The
third example is another promise,
and we find it in verses 11 and 12.
This
time it’s the promise that Abraham will have a son
through whom the first two promises
will be fulfilled.
Without
descendants, the would be no people to fulfil the destiny
of entry into the city of God.
These
three examples, taken together,
offer the reader of Hebrews an
important perspective
about the nature of faith,
and
in doing so they echo a conviction
that the preacher had expressed
earlier in the chapter, in verse 1
that
‘faith is the assurance of things hoped for,
the
conviction of things not seen.’
Abraham,
and all those who are the heirs of his promise,
are called by the preacher of
Hebrews
to
live their lives according to the conviction
that that which has been promised by
God
will indeed come into
being,
however unlikely it may
seem at the moment.
Just
as Abraham could not see how the promises would find fulfilment,
and yet set out on his journey of
faith anyway,
so
also those who have inherited the promises,
are called to make the same journey
of faith.
They
are called to have faith in the promise,
that the world will not always be
like this,
they
are called to have faith in the conviction
that there is a new world coming,
even if at present it is more hoped
for than it is real,
more
intangible than it is concrete.
The
fourth example of Abraham’s faith
is found in verses 17-19
And
it is one we will return to in a few minutes
when we consider the dramatic and
traumatic story
of the sacrifice of Isaac.
But
for now, Abraham has three promises to cling to:
the promise of a journey to a new
but unknown destination,
the promise of a city to give rest
and security to his heirs,
and the promise of a son through
whom he will inherit many nations.
Of
course, at the start of Abraham’s story,
the fulfilment of these three
promises is far from straightforward.
A
journey into the unknown is perilous and dangerous,
even for a nomad like Abraham,
used to moving with the
seasons
and following the
rhythms of the earth.
And
the promise of a city
to a man whose family had only ever
known what it was to live in tents
must have seemed an impossible
transformation.
And
the promise of a son
by a wife who was well past the
years of childbearing
must have seemed laughable.
And
yet…
In
the promises God makes to Abraham,
a perspective is offered on God
which the preacher of Hebrews wants
his hearers to grasp.
And
this is that God is the God who is able to bring new life from death.
The God of Abraham is the God of
resurrection.
In
the ancient world,
Sarah, the wife of Abraham, bore the
shame of childlessness.
In
fact, the biblical narrative seems to go to some lengths to demonstrate
that the lack of issue from the
Abraham-Sarah union
wasn’t Abraham’s
problem!
We’re told that he successfully
father’s Ishmael by the slave girl Hagar
before Isaac is born to
Sarah,
and that after Sarah’s death he
married Keturah
and had at least six
more children.
And
so the drama of this narrative
isn’t really about Abraham at all,
but about Sarah,
and what God is going to do through
her.
She
is presented to us as aged, barren,
shamed, ostracised, ‘not a proper woman’
done-down and doubting,
prepared to offer another to her
husband in place of herself (16.1-4),
and laughing at God’s call on her as
the source of life for others (18.12).
She
is described as being ‘as good as dead’,
an expression which gives voice to
the utter hopelessness and depression
that she experienced at the hands of
a society that measured a woman’s value
only through the produce of her
womb.
And
yet, this hope-less woman is the one
through whom the hope of the world
comes to birth.
She
is the one through whom the assurance of things hoped for,
and the conviction of things not
seen,
comes into being.
In
many ways she is the archetype of Mary, the mother of Jesus:
both are women through whom the life
of the world comes into being.
both are women ignored and devalued
by society, yet regarded with esteem by God.
This
is the message of resurrection,
and what God does with Sarah,
he does with the world.
In
the story of God bringing new life to birth through one who is ‘as good as dead’
we glimpse something of the nature
of God
who continually brings new life to
birth in hope-less situations,
who breathes new life into dry
bones,
who will never allow death to have
the final word.
This
is the God of Abraham and Sarah,
and this is the God of those who, in
Christ, are heirs of the promises of God.
The
insight of the preacher of Hebrews
is that Christ is the fulfilment of
the Abrahamic promises (6.13-20)
Christ
is the one who, like Abraham, perseveres to the end,
and Christ is the one through whom
‘many nations’ become the inheritors
of the promise.
The
heirs of Abraham are said, by the preacher,
to long for a ‘better country’, for
a ‘city prepared by God’ (v.16).
The
people of faith, who stand in the tradition of Abraham,
are those who can see their ultimate
home with the eyes of faith,
and who recognise that the world as
it is
is not the world as it
should be,
and who have faith that the world as
it is
is not the world as it
will be.
The
people of faith, who stand in the tradition of Abraham,
are like nomads in the world,
aliens
and transients on the earth,
passing
through like Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob:
never fully at home with the status
quo,
because their citizenship is already
with the world that is coming into being.
This
is not to say that this world doesn’t matter,
and it certainly doesn’t lead us to
a theology
where our task is to sit tight and
wait for glory.
But
it is a call to not settle for what is,
and to keep striving for what can
be, for what could be,
in the faith that what is now
is giving way to what will be,
as God draws the world to himself
in
fulfilment of his promise to Abraham.
The
people of faith are those who never call here ‘home’,
because they have committed
themselves to live for the coming kingdom.
They
are anticipating an alternative reality,
and in Christ they are participating
in the dawning reality
of the heavenly kingdom, which is
coming on earth, as it is in heaven.
And
so the faithful response of Abraham
is held up by the preacher of
Hebrews
as the model and paradigm for all
those who would live by faith.
And
so we come to the fourth example from the life of Abraham,
the story of the attempted sacrifice
of Isaac.
And
here we hit a problem. Or at least, I do.
This is a deeply shocking story.
A
father takes his son to a hill,
and sets out to kill the child and
burn his body,
because he believes God has told him
to do this.
Any
father who tried this today,
would be looking at life in prison,
or at the least a very long spell in
a secure medical facility.
It
is worth noting that it has always been a shocking story.
Our horrified reaction to Abraham’s
actions
is not simply the result of modern
attitudes towards parenthood.
Fathers
have always loved their sons,
and invested in them their hopes and
dreams,
and fears and anxieties.
And
we have no reason to suppose that Abraham was any different.
And
in this story, of his willingness to sacrifice his son Isaac,
we find an exploration of the
deepest levels of faith and doubt.
It
is as if the narrator leans out of the page
and says to the unsuspecting reader:
‘Would you do as Abraham did?’
And
of course, therein lies the trap that the text sets for us.
If we answer ‘yes’, then there is
something deeply wrong with us.
But if we answer ‘no’, then where is
our faith?
And
so, having got our attention,
the story invites us to journey
beyond the shock and awe,
into the depths of our faith
response to God,
as
we are invited to consider and reflect
on the response of Abraham.
For
Abraham, the willingness to offer his son
was the final and greatest example
of his trust in God.
It
was an act of faithful obedience.
It
wasn’t merely that God asked Abraham to sacrifice
one so long-awaited, and so
dearly-loved.
Rather,
God asked him to sacrifice the very one
through whom God himself had
promised
to multiply Abraham’s descendants
to make him the father
of many nations.
What
is on the altar is not just a child,
but Abraham’s very trust in the
promises of God.
For
Abraham, even death:
the death of a child – his child,
the death of hope,
the death of a future glimpsed but
unfulfilled,
even
these deaths did not shake his faith
in God’s faithfulness to his
promises.
Because
Abraham grasps what Sarah already knows.
that God is the God of the living,
not the dead.
He
is the God who brings life from death,
he is the God of resurrection.
The
faith Abraham demonstrated, when he offered Isaac,
made sense only if he believe that
God could raise the dead.
And
what is true of Abraham the patriarch,
is true of all our heroes of the
faith.
The
Preacher of Hebrews wants his hearers to realise
that all those who imitate Abraham,
and live by faith in the
promises God gave him,
live in the confidence that God brings
life from death,
and that their lives of
faith – our lives of faith –
bring the resurrecting nature of God
to bear in this world of death.
Abraham’s
faith that God ‘is able to raise someone from the dead’ (v.19)
suggests that Isaac,
who embodies the many
faithful descendants promised to Abraham,
also typifies their
resurrection.
As
Isaac was given life from death,
so too the many nations
that constitute the heirs of the
promise God made to Abraham.
Of
course, it doesn’t need to be explained
that Isaac was not literally raised
from the dead.
Everyone
knows how that story ended,
with a ram in a thicket and a last
minute reprive.
But
that isn’t the point.
The
point is Abraham’s faith
led Isaac through death to new life
as a gift from God.
Just
as those who are baptised do not literally die
when they go down into the baptismal
pool,
we
still speak of them being raised to new life
when they come up from beneath the
waters of baptism.
It’s
not about literal death at all.
Abraham doesn’t kill his child.
Rather,
God brings Isaac through death to new life
in fulfilment of the promise he made
to Abraham.
And
in this God’s nature is clearly seen,
and his nature is resurrection.
It
is in the resurrection of Christ
that the promise of Abraham finds
its ultimate fulfilment,
and
it is through the resurrection of Christ
that the world is being brought to
life,
as
those who have been joined to Christ in death and resurrection
share with him in living the reality
of the dawning kingdom,
living lives of faithfulness
to the new world that is
coming into being in our midst:
as the power of death is challenged,
as the narrative of sin
is re-told,
and as the hopelessness of the
marginalised, the barren,
the powerless, and the
dispossessed,
is met with the promise of hope and
new life
that ever lies before
us,
beckoning us on, and
inviting us in.
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