Once
upon a time there was a wealthy man who enjoyed a special
relationship with God – so special that they agreed that God had
chosen HIM to be a blessing to the whole world. Like many men of his
day, -the cultural context is really important – this man owned a
whole retinue of slaves, who did his bidding morning, noon and night.
This
man also had a wife – but no children.
This
perplexed and grieved the couple. In conversation with God, the words
“Father of a great nation” had definitely come up…but you can’t
be a father without a child to call your own. What was this man –
whom of course you recognise as Abraham – to do?
From
our perspective, the answer is frankly shocking. His barren wife,
Sarah, commanded one of her slave girls to take her place in
Abraham’s bed, and to bear him a child. She deliberately set out to
exploit another human being – treated a person like a thing,
existing only to meet her own need…Those who know Margaret Attwood''s Handmaid's Tale will have seen a chilling development of this theme, and here too, unsurprisingly, trouble followed.
Of
course, at first it seemed like an answer to prayer when Hagar bore a
son – hence his name. Ishmael – meaning “God listens”
– is born…At last a son and heir…a dream come true. And they
all lived happily ever after.
Except
– in this story many of the worst aspects of humanity come to the
fore. Against all the odds, another son is born to Abraham, a child
for Sarah, who was said to be barren. And, just like that, Ishmael’s
value plummets. He is no longer the treasured first born but a threat
to Sarah’s longed-for child. He is last year’s toy – to be
discarded now he is no longer needed. Abraham – the father of a
great nation – the revered icon of faith and obedience – opts for
a quiet life and allows Sarah to manipulate the future, yielding to
her demand that he
“Cast
out this slave woman with her son”.
Notice
how Sarah has begun to dehumanise her. She no longer has a name. A
line has been drawn and mother and child are placed firmly on the far
side of it. They are othered…no longer Hagar and Ishmael, part of the family, but “this
slave woman and her son”…You can almost hear the venom in Sarah’s
voice
And
Abraham…He’s a patriarch, revered throughout history...of COURSE
he’s going to stand up for justice for his child…to recognise
that Hagar and Ishmael are already disadvantaged, since Isaac is the
son of his marriage. This is flesh of his flesh, bone of his bone,
right? Right?
Well,
it’s true that he IS perturbed, distinctly uncomfortable indeed.
Not only is he dealing with a request to banish Ishmael and his
mother, he is also coming face to face with an aspect of his beloved
wife’s character that he surely can’t be proud of. Perhaps, like
me, he goes a long way to avoid conflict...He knows Sarah’s
attitude is unfair – but he hopes that someone else will intervene
– and indeed, he is reassured by God that all will turn out OK. On
that basis he is somehow content to send mother and son away with
only a loaf of bread and a skin of water, banishing the source of his
discomfort rather than deal with the problem. He has bought in to the
theory that some lives matter more than others…that it’s fine to
prioritise the needs of your own nearest and dearest and exclude
others, hoping that someone else will sort out their situation.
Actually,
both he and Sarah have fallen fair and square into that trap which
our Cathedral challenges in its very bones…They have divided the
world into us and them, those who really matter…those on the
inside…and those we push outside as somehow less deserving.
Remember
the power of the missing word?…We say Father forgive – not Father
forgive THEM – and that’s not just about shared culpability for
the issues of the world...it is a clear reminder of our shared
humanity – that there is NOBODY on the other side of the line
because in reconciling the WORLD to himself, Christ has erased that
line forever...
But
we forget too easily, and when we do, we send Ishmael and Hagar out
into the wilderness once again
We
do so, too, when we deny the reality of racism, however unconscious,
in our selves and in our society…We do so when we try to alleviate
our discomfort and smooth over the passionate anger that is fuelling
the “Black lives matter” debate by insisting “All lives
matter”…Of course they do (no “us” and “them”) –
but if you remember the parable of the lost sheep, the good shepherd
could not rest til all was well for each and every one of his
flock...and knew that at that precise moment he needed to pay
particular attention to the one who was needed help..
We
do so when we insist “I’m not racist” but refuse to recognise
the layers of injustice that permeates our society, unnoticed and
unchallenged. If you doubt their reality, there are many many
statistics to make the point. This IS our problem, albeit in
different ways from the experience in the States…
More
widely, we do so when we suggest that there is no need to celebrate
Pride month, because that battle is won – or even, perhaps, that
“people like that” should not be free to celebrate their
identity...When it takes a pandemic to make us aware of all those
people who were not able to worship with us simply because they can’t
get through our doors…
We
are still adept at pushing those who make us uncomfortable out into
the wilderness.
But,
what happens to Hagar and Ishmael there?
They
encounter God, who meets their needs and stays with Ishmael to see
him grow up and find his place in the world...God who loves each
precious child far too much to abandon even one...who will ensure
that all that is covered up in our hearts and our lives and our
society will be made known...who so cares for all his creation that
he notices when a sparrow falls to the ground.
Our
gospel reminds us that when we ally ourselves with God’s
revolution, when we stand with the broken-hearted, speak up for the
excluded, support the weak, it won’t make us popular. Here in the
Church we have a tendency to try
to be nice...to direct our efforts into upsetting nobody...It’s
something I really struggle with myself...but it’s not the gospel
invitation. Not peace, but a sword,
because the struggle is REAL. We need to be ready to fight – to
challenge injustice wherever we may see it, even within the hearts
and minds of those we love...and to offer hope that God is already
making all things new. Will you join me? Can we hold one another to
account, so that we may come to live out the Magnificat wherever we
turn, placing the first last, the last first and losing our own
lives, with all their protective self-interest, to gain the life of
the Kingdom?
The
call is clear. Let’s pray for the courage to answer it.
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