Monday, August 26, 2019

Your Name Is Mercy--Pentecost + 7, July 28, 2019


Sermon for SMHP, Year C, Proper 12, July 28, 2019
Genesis 18:20-33            
          20Then the Lord said, “How great is the outcry against Sodom and Gomorrah and how very grave their sin! 21I must go down and see whether they have done altogether according to the outcry that has come to me; and if not, I will know.” 22So the men turned from there, and went toward Sodom, while Abraham remained standing before the Lord.
               23Then Abraham came near and said, “Will you indeed sweep away the righteous with the wicked? 24Suppose there are fifty righteous within the city; will you then sweep away the place and not forgive it for the fifty righteous who are in it? 25Far be it from you to do such a thing, to slay the righteous with the wicked, so that the righteous fare as the wicked! Far be that from you! Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is just?”
          26And the Lord said, “If I find at Sodom fifty righteous in the city, I will forgive the whole place for their sake.” 27Abraham answered, “Let me take it upon myself to speak to the Lord, I who am but dust and ashes.28Suppose five of the fifty righteous are lacking? Will you destroy the whole city for lack of five?” And he said, “I will not destroy it if I find forty-five there.” 
          29Again he spoke to him, “Suppose forty are found there.” He answered, “For the sake of forty I will not do it.” 30Then he said, “Oh do not let the Lord be angry if I speak. Suppose thirty are found there.” He answered, “I will not do it, if I find thirty there.” 31He said, “Let me take it upon myself to speak to the Lord. Suppose twenty are found there.” He answered, “For the sake of twenty I will not destroy it.” 32Then he said, “Oh do not let the Lord be angry if I speak just once more. Suppose ten are found there.” He answered, “For the sake of ten I will not destroy it.” 33And the Lord went his way, when God had finished speaking to Abraham; and Abraham returned to his place.

          So this is a lectionary text, so it comes up every three years.  But it feels particularly relevant this year.  Anybody else feel that way?  Maybe you were wondering, too, as you listened to the conversation between Abraham and God,
          How should God respond to a people who have utterly forsaken the Word of God?
          What is God to do with people who claim to be faithful, but who operate out of their basest instincts, ignoring the call to hospitality and love of neighbor?  Who turn away the refugee at the gate and ignore—or even denigrate—the poor in their midst?  What shall God do with those people?
          If you know your scripture, you know that the answer to that question is complicated.  There have been different answers at different times, as our relationship with God has grown and evolved.  There was a time when God was pretty smite-y.  Not much grace in the Garden, for instance.  Eat one forbidden fruit and go straight to lifetime detention. 
          And then there was the time that God destroyed the whole world except for Noah and his family and a very smelly ark.  We’re going to touch on that later, sans the smelly ark part.  It’s part of the baptismal liturgy.
          But then there was the time after that time.  After God surveyed the earth, utterly destroyed, God established the first covenant, with Noah and his descendants.  God promised to refrain from destroying everything again.  As a mark of this covenant, God “set a bow in the clouds.”  Still today, the rainbow is a mark of promise, inclusion and love.
          God promised to love us.  God made covenants of love and fidelity, with Noah, and then with Abraham, and then with Jacob.  Those covenants are much like the covenants we make with one another today—
·       The marriage covenant
·       The adoption covenant
·       The baptismal covenant
          In those covenants, we promise to love each other and be faithful to one another.  In a few moments, CeCe’s parents and sponsors are going to make covenantal promises to her and to God.  They will promise to raise her in the faith into which she is being baptized, with full knowledge of what that faith means and its power over death.
          These sorts of promises and vows--these covenants of love and fidelity--are important.  They remind us that relationships are not to be taken lightly—not to be picked up and put down easily.  It has been wonderful to work with Joanie and Duncan on their wedding, because they have taken the promises they make that day seriously—investing as much time in thinking about the wedding ceremony as the reception.

          God’s covenant with Noah was important. It marked God’s intention to enter into a long-term relationship with humankind.  And each successive covenantal step—the covenant with Abraham, with Jacob, and finally the New Covenant in Jesus Christ—those were marks of our deepening relationship of mutual love and fidelity with God.
          It’s important to keep that progression in mind, as we consider the Genesis text before us this morning.  This text reminds us that there has indeed been a progression in the relationship between God and human beings.
          When Abraham and God had this little negotiation about the future of the legendary cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, that relationship was still in its early stages. 
          To put it another way, God was a new parent in those days.  God’s children were misbehaving something terrible, and quite frankly, God was kind of at a loss for what to do.  It happens.  Even to seasoned parents.  But new parents often have the look.  You know the one.  [Make bewildered, frustrated look]
          Or to put it yet another way, God’s gettin’ ready to pull this car over, Sodom and Gomorrah, and you are not going to like it one bit.
          In order to understand this lesson, we have to cast ourselves back to when God and humankind were still learning to love and trust one another.  Because we know God the seasoned parent.  We know the God who can hold a child being baptized and comfort a grieving spouse, and create a beautiful sunset.  All without breaking a sweat.
          We know the God of incarnation—who so loved the world that God was willing to enter into our experience and even take on our suffering.
          That’s the God we know. 
          That is not the God having a conversation with Abraham on the road from Mamre to Sodom. I mean it is, of course.  You’re still the same being you were in middle school, right.  But you’re probably glad to have left a few things about yourself back in that time.
          The God conversing with Abraham is the same God we know, but with some edges that are still being worn smooth by love and mercy and practice.  Abraham is talking to the God whose fiery, destructive tendencies have been scaled down, but not eliminated.  The God who is still incarnate—witness God having a conversation with Abraham—but who has not entered fully into human experience.
          So as Abraham and God and having this conversation on the road, God is pretty matter-of-fact about old Sodom and Gomorrah. “Abe,” says God, “I am getting terrible reports about Sodom and Gomorrah.  I’m going to go down there, and see if I have some smiting to do.”
          God and Sodom are in a Game of Thrones, and you know who’s going to win.
          Winter is coming.
          Abraham is playing a different game.  Abraham is cast into a role we see every so often in scripture.  Let’s call it “attorney for the accused.” 
          We see Moses play this role in the desert.  We see the prophets intervening on behalf of the people.  When Jesus talks with women from Canaan and Syrophoenicia, we see them doing it—reminding Jesus that God’s name is Mercy.  Love.  Inclusion.
          I am so in awe of single parents, because I know how much I rely on my wife to play this role for me.  And I know my responsibility is to play it for her.  We have to remind each other that as the parents of that little boy back there, our name is Mercy.  Smiting is strictly forbidden, even when he spits at your face, which is a fun little behavior that came back this week.
          Abraham is playing that role for God in this story.  “Oh God, I know you’re really mad at Sodom and Gomorrah, but remember how some of them are nice?  Maybe fifty of them are nice…well, fifty might be high, but at least forty of them are good…well, forty might be a bit of a stretch, but thirty—yeah, thirty of them are decent folks…maybe.  How about ten?  Would you take ten?”
          Abraham speaks a word of mercy to a God whose name is mercy.  Or whose name will be mercy, as God continues to fall even deeper and deeper in love with the creation.
          Lucky us.  We are the youngest children of the very large family of God.  By the time God created us, God had been really strict with a bunch of our older siblings, and God settled in to just love the stuffin’ out of us.  To forgive us all manner of things.
          But also to gently remind us, every so often, as Abraham reminded God, as God reminded Jonah, as the Syro-phoenician woman reminded Jesus:  “Your name is Mercy.” 
          People of God, as we baptize this child today, let us be a community willing to remind her, “Your name is mercy.  You belong to a God of mercy.  And that God of mercy has a church.  
          Here you will be loved, no matter what.  Here you will be accepted, no matter what.  Here you will be welcomed, no matter what!  Because we belong to a God of mercy, and that makes us a people of mercy.”
          Let us say those words over CeCe at the font, and let us remember to whisper them to each other, every so often. 
          Do that now:  turn to the people around you and whisper, “Your name is mercy.”
          Let us remind one another, and let us remind the world.  Let us shout it out, drown out the cries of those who have forgotten, call them, and us, back to God’s tender embrace of love and inclusion.
          Shout it with me:  “Our name is mercy!”  “Our name is mercy!” 
          Let it be so. 

Amen

Rise up, people of God, and let us sing together hymn #657.
         

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