Some of us have recently returned from vacation trips. We packed everyone and everything into the car and headed for the mountains or the sea. We journeyed to distant relatives, or we drove to the Hill Country to get some fresh air. Some of my fondest memories as a child are of our family's vacation journeys. Those were the times when being in our family became an adventure. We left the humdrum routine of the ordinary and ventured forth into unknown regions. We sampled strange food, encountered memorable people, and one time we even had a bear come right up to our car in the Smoky Mountains. Parents, who spend most of their time enforcing the rules, keeping us on schedule, making sure that everyone has done his or her chores, became fellow adventurers, explorers. It's great to be on these summer journeys.
And, when you think about it, so much of the Bible is concerned with people on a journey. When the Bible begins, in Genesis, it begins with settled life in a good garden. But a couple of chapters later, Adam and Eve must leave the garden and the journey begins. Human life, it appears, is not all wrapped up and settled down. Noah ventures forth over the dark water in an ark. Abraham leaves the city of Ur and travels to a "promised" land. The gospel writers organize their thoughts about Jesus as an extended travel story. Jesus is always on the road, always on the move to somewhere else. He says something, his words fall upon the ears of the crowd, and then he moves on. Jesus is always traveling. He is always on a journey.
Our scripture this morning is about two people on a journey. Abraham and Sarah venture forth, as today's Epistle reading puts it, "not knowing where they were going." (11:8). They venture forth, not only geographically, to a different location on the map, but also spiritually, to a different location in their spiritual lives. As Kierkegaard said: "Faith sees best in the dark."
Abraham and Sarah knew the risks inherit in starting a journey. God had promised this old childless couple that they would have a son. Their son would be a new beginning. A new beginning in the midst of their transition from the past to the future, from one place to another. And God fulfilled that promise. They bore a son named Isaac which means "Laughter." God got the last laugh on Abraham and Sarah. For from their son came a nation called Israel who would become "as many as the stars of heaven and as the innumerable grains of sand by the seashore."
How could they do it? How could Abraham and Sarah survive the uncertainty? How could they leave a city in which they had succeeded in search of a dream? They journeyed on because they were seeking a homeland -- a heavenly homeland. They were following the God of stardust and sand. They were fast on the trail of a God who creates new things.
Maybe this old couple can teach us something. This old couple who left it all behind. This old couple who found a way to make a new beginning. This old couple who were not afraid to face the time of transition. This old couple who was not afraid of change.
What can we learn from Abraham and Sarah? Faith. Here is faith. Faith in action. Faith that walks. Faith that makes the journey. Faith that is not afraid to risk everything in order to follow God. Faith that carries on in spite of disappointments. Faith that continues even when understanding fails. Faith that walks on and lets God work out the details. Faith that sees beyond this world. Faith that realizes that our time on this planet is a gift. Faith that knows we are only visiting here. The kind of faith that makes us fully awake in our spirits even as caffeine makes us fully awake in our mind. The kind of faith that is aware that God is with us on the journey.
Abraham and Sarah are the proverbial parents of the Jewish people. Speaking of the Jews, I am reminded of Goldstein, aged ninety-two, who had lived through pogroms in Poland, concentration camps in Germany, and dozens of other persecutions against the Jews.
"Oh, Lord!" he said, "isn't it true that we are your chosen people?"
A heavenly voice replied, "Yes, Goldstein, the Jews are my chosen people."
"Well, then, isn't it time you chose someone else?"
According to the Apostle Paul, we Christians are that someone else. Having been grafted in God's family tree, Abraham and Sarah are our spiritual parents, too. And the story of Abraham and Sarah is the story of a faith journey like our faith journey. For we, too, are on a faith journey even as we sit here on Sunday in our bolted-down pews. No wonder some people get the impression that the purpose of the church is to bolt things down, so to speak, to get fixed, settled, to attain "firm and unshakable faith," as we sometimes say. But no, the writer to the Hebrews reminds us that being a disciple of Jesus is a good deal more exciting than that. The Christian life is an adventure, a pilgrimage, a journey. We come here on Sunday, not to settle down, settle in, and end our search. We come here to eat spiritual food that will energize us so that we may step out in faith and serve God in the world.
What is faith? Ironically, faith is knowing we don't know. Faith is knowing nothing and loving everything. The Apostle Paul says, "Make no mistake about it, if there is anyone among you who fancies himself wise, he must become a fool again to gain true wisdom. If anyone thinks he knows, he knows nothing yet in the sense of true knowing." (1 Cor. 3:8)
If we want to experience what Paul calls 'the peace of God that surpasses all understanding" and what Plotinus calls 'the Presence beyond all understanding,' then we must be willing to go beyond understanding. (Freke and Gandy, Jesus and the Lost Goddess, 182-183)
We start out on the spiritual quest because we don't know who we are or what life is. Having filled our heads with all sorts of fancy ideas, as the realization of faith deepens it dawns on us that we knew the answer in the first place. We began searching for meaning because life didn't make sense and we were right. Life doesn't make sense. It's an absolute Mystery.
Yet as we progress on our journey something changes. We begin our search because we are terrified by the fact that we don't know what is going on. Through the process of awakening we discover something wonderful - the source from which life originates and towards which it is evolving is more perfect, more beautiful, more loving, than words can possibly communicate. Life is essentially Good.
This can sound like glib positivity, but it is not. Faith is not about avoiding the fact of suffering and retreating into wishful thinking. It is expressing our natural compassion by doing all we can to heal the terrible suffering we encounter, yet at the same time know that, despite appearances, all is well. It is understanding that everything arises from and is returning to the Good. It is trusting that ultimately, therefore, good will come from bad, and choosing to play an active part in that process.
We can't understand the Mystery of Life but we can comet to trust it, and this transforms everything.
The essence of the Christian gospel of faith could not be more simple. It is so simple and so obvious, in fact, that it can years of philosophical exploration before we finally understand that the 'good news' it brings is all we really need to know: Everything is okay. (Freke and Gandy, Jesus and the Lost Goddess, 183-184)
An atheist fell off a cliff. As he tumbled downward, he caught hold of the branch of a small tree. There he hung between heaven above and the rocks a thousand feet below, knowing he wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer.
Then an idea came to him. "God!" he shouted with all his might.
Silence! No one responded.
"God!" he shouted again. "If you exist, save me and I promise I shall believe in you and teach others to believe."
Silence again! Then he almost let go of the branch in shock as he heard a mighty Voice booming across the canyon. "That's what they all say when they are in trouble."
"No, God, no!" he shouted out, more hopeful now. "I am not like the others. Why, I have already begun to believe, don't you see, having heard you r Voice for myself. Now all you have to do is save me and I shall proclaim your name to the ends of the earth.
"Very well," said the Voice. "I shall save you. Let go of that branch."
"Let go of the branch?" yelled the distraught man. "Do you think I'm crazy?"
It is said that when Moses threw his wand into the Red Sea the expected miracle did not take place. It was only when the first man threw himself into the sea that the waves receded and the water divided itself to offer a dry passage to the Jews. (Anthony de Mello, Taking Flight, p 62)
Let's be like that man who stepped into the sea. Step out in faith, regardless of whether you feel like you believe or not. Step out in faith and see what God will do. Let's step out in faith like Abraham and Sarah, our spiritual parents. Let's take a leap of faith.
What do you need to let go of today to move forward in faith? What is holding you back? What is tying you down? Whatever it is ... let it go.
We can afford to take the risk because ultimately we are safe. St. Teresa of Avila said it best: "All shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well."
~Dr. Jon Burnham preached this sermon from Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16 on August 8, 2010 (OT19C) at St. John's Presbyterian Church in Houston, Texas.
