A Sermon for the Second Sunday of Lent, Year C (Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18; Luke 13:31-35)

In an age of streaming video services and on-demand movies, one experience of my childhood seems to have been lost – waiting all year for a favorite movie to air on broadcast television. From “The Wizard of Oz” to “The Sound of Music” I know it was a family tradition to gather in front of the TV with popcorn and snacks to watch these legendary films.

My parents even gave us permission to stay up LATE to watch one of the Hollywood Bible epics that were usually aired around Easter. Some of the most memorable were:

“The Ten Commandments,” “Ben Hur,” “Jesus of Nazareth,” and “The Longest Story Ever Told”…

Among these there was one that stands out in my mind, simply called, “The Bible”. This was a pretty ambitious movie, covering the stories of Adam and Eve, through Abraham and Isaac in less than three hours. It was actually a fairly whimsical, engaging movie. John Houston directed, and George C. Scott played Abraham. The special effects of The Tower of Babel and the Flood were pretty spectacular, but I would end up nodding off at some of the slower bits, that came well past my bedtime. Etched in my mind’s eye is one unlikely scene that the producers chose to include – the very scene we hear described in this reading from Genesis. As the text suggests, it’s as dark as the night on which it occurs. It’s the kind of scene that a movie producer would likely skip because it’s a bit confusing, a little scary, and even gory in a PG kind of way. But I still remember watching it as a child thinking, “What is going on?!? I don’t remember this from Vacation Bible School!”

What is going on here? Let’s start by setting it in the larger context of the story of Abraham. Of course, before he was Abraham, he was Abram. In the days after the flood, the descendants of Shem included a man named Terah, and Terah’s son, Abram. The Lord calls Abram to leave Ur, the land of his ancestors and go where the Lord would lead him, ultimately to Canaan. The Lord promised Abram, even though he is still childless at this point, “I will make of you a great nation, and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.” “All the families of the earth shall be blessed.” Remember that part. We’re coming back to it.

Now when famine struck the land, Abram and Sarai his wife (and their whole entourage) migrated to Egypt to survive. The culture of hospitality in that region meant that no foreigner who came into your land would be denied food and shelter. While in Egypt, Abram behaves rather cowardly, so much so that Pharaoh kicks Abram and Sarai. Upon their return to Canaan, Abram and his nephew, Lot, separate their considerable wealth (their herds, their gold, and yes, even their slaves). Another of God’s promises remains true – “I will bless you. I will give your descendants this land.”

At this point, Abram expresses some honest doubt. He and Sarai are childless. God mentions descendants. Where are these descendants? Abram dares to question God, “O Lord God, what will you give me, for I continue childless?” At this point in the story his inheritance would have to go to a relative or even to one of his slaves.

The Lord God answers with what might be a set-up for a movie director, “Look toward heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them. So shall your descendants be.” Wow! The music swells! And then we are told, “Abram believed the Lord; and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness.” This is one of the first echoes of covenant and redemption. Bits like this get left out of movies. They are not very exciting.

But Abram wants a further sign. He doesn’t just want words; he wants to seal this promise with liturgy. The Lord God orders him to arrange what may seem a rather shocking to us: divide these various animals in half, but not the birds. Abram has to protect this sacrifice from birds of prey. Abram’s act of protection mirrors God’s protection of Abram. The message is clear, the Lord God is not finished with it yet.

Abram falls into a deep sleep, a sleep accompanied by a terrifying darkness. The sun hasn’t even set yet! Then these two items, a torch and a smoking fire pot pass between the pieces of the animals. Fire and smoke. Hearers today may think the appearance of these items random and perhaps even odd. But these are clearly signs of God’s presence, one’s that ancient audiences would have immediately recognized. The burning bush, the smoke on Mt. Sinai, the pillar of fire and of cloud – any time God was making covenants or interacting with humans, fire and smoke were often present.

The Lord God is promising Abram that his descendants, his flesh and blood, would inherit the land. What the lectionary omits is a dire prophecy that his descendants would be held as slaves as a foreign land, but that God would rescue them and restore the land to them. Picture Abram fighting off birds of prey who wanted to destroy the sacrifice and the covenant. The Lord God also promises Abram that he would die at a good, old age. God’s covenant with Abram and his descendants did not promise a life without hardship or trouble, but God did promise that they would not be abandoned or forgotten. For Abram, at least, his obedience and his faith would bring him to one of the few things any human can hope for – a good death.

Of course the Lord God would soon call Abram “Abraham” and Sarai would be called “Sarah.” God is faithful. God fulfills the promises that have been made. Flash forward to one of Abraham’s ancestors, Jesus, in our Gospel lesson this morning. It’s a short and rather abrupt encounter between Pharisees who seem to want to help Jesus by warning him about Herod’s plot against him. Jesus does not mince his words, “Tell that fox, I’m not finished my work.” Then comes this lament for Jerusalem and a dire warning of her destruction. This city of the sons of Abraham, built where the Lord God spared Isaac’s life, would soon be a smoking ruin. The birds of prey still have not left God’s covenant people alone, including Herod, the fox. If Herod is a fox, who is Jesus? In one of the most beautiful images of God’s care for the people, Jesus uses this maternal image of a mother hen, protecting her chicks from harm. There are many accounts of mother hens giving their lives to protect their offspring. God’s covenant protection is that self-sacrificial, and Jesus would sacrifice himself to protect us all.

Hollywood loves to make movies about the life of Jesus as well. Of course, Jesus is usually painfully anglo, once even with blond hair and blue eyes! The covenant and promise God made with Abraham and his descendants is that in them all the families of the earth shall be blessed.

We share in that lineage. God’s call to Abraham created millions of Children of Abraham. Jews, Christians, and Muslims all call ourselves children of Abraham. We share many stories in common, so we are called People of the Book as well.

If that is a job description for us as Christians, to be a blessing to the families of the earth, I dare say we must ask ourselves: how are we doing? Jesus, as a mother hen, has shown us the way. Protect the helpless from foxes, even if it costs us everything.

Yet again, powerful forces are making war on the poor and the vulnerable. God’s children are targets. The birds of prey and foxes take on new names and new schemes across the ages, and yet our mission remains the same, “that we may be a blessing.” God knows the future, but we must ask ourselves, right now, what can we do to be a blessing. How can we imitate Jesus as he showed us the way? Many before us have shown us as well, sacrificing themselves to keep the blessing of God alive. In you all the families of the earth shall be blessed. I will bless you that you may be a blessing.

This is the essence of the mission of the Church. It hasn’t changed from the days when Jesus walked the earth. We must ask ourselves in every generation, is the world a better place because we are in it? These days, I’m not sure how everyone who call themselves “Christian” would do in a performance review with this job description in mind. But we must not give up on God’s call to us, God’s promise.

May we continue to do God’s work, no matter the cost, no matter the opposition. May we find new ways every day that we can make God’s covenant with Abram a reality in our time, in our midst, and not just a piece of Hollywood fiction. Amen.