Listening for the Spirit
Reflections for the 2nd Sunday in Lent
RCL Lent 2C [i]
16 March 2025
Church of the Epiphany
Surrey BC
When I was in theological college, all students were expected to attend morning and evening prayer as well as the daily celebration of the eucharist. In addition to the daily worship services, my theological college required all students to take at least one or two courses in the Holy Scriptures every semester. So, when one considers the number of readings we heard each day in worship and whatever course or courses we were taking in the Scriptures, we were immersed in an ocean of biblical texts.
When you are immersed in biblical texts, it’s not surprising that there are, from time to time, texts that are difficult to understand and even difficult to accept as being texts that we should even read. I remember well one occasion when a classmate of mine was responsible for reading the Scriptures at Morning Prayer. The goal of the lectionary for daily prayer is to help us read almost all of Scripture over the course of two years. So, as you can well imagine, sometimes there are texts that are difficult to understand if you haven’t heard the reading from the day before or will hear the reading for the day after.
We were reading the account of David’s adultery with Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah the Hittite. We’d just come to the point in the story where David arranges for Uriah to be placed in the front line of a battle. David orders his commander to withdraw just as the battle is most fierce and let the enemy kill Uriah. So, my classmate read the portion for the morning which ends with the line: “The men of the city came out and fought with Joab, and some of the servants of David among the people fell. Uriah the Hittite was killed as well.” [ii]
Now, in those days, we ended every reading by saying, ‘The Word of the Lord.’ But my classmate had a moment of doubt, so he unconsciously reverted to the older custom of saying, ‘Here ends the reading.’ To which the whole chapel resounded with, ‘Thanks be to God.’ Afterwards we all thanked my classmate for making a wise choice.
This morning we heard a strange text that may have tested us. It’s one of the many stories in Genesis that tell about God’s choice of Abraham, here called ‘Abram’, to be the human forebear of the people God has chosen to be the symbol of God’s commitment to humanity. It has some strange features, so this morning I am going to do what one of my colleagues at Vancouver School of Theology called ‘from text to sermon’. I will share with you some of the reflections that I had as I read this portion of the Scriptures.
Reflection 1: Even when we are angry or disappointed with God, God does not abandon us but keeps faith with us.
I don’t know if you picked up on the tone of Abram’s initial response to God’s opening words. God may think that Abram would be bursting with gratitude for all the flocks and herds and wealth that God has bestowed upon him, but Abram is actually not happy at all. The one thing that Abram wants is a son and that is the one thing he doesn’t have. Cows, sheep, goats and servants are all very good, but they’re nothing if Abram doesn’t have the one thing that will ensure that his name is remembered by future generations.
Did you notice that God does not respond to Abram’s ingratitude in anger? No, God acknowledges Abram’s desire and promises that a son will come to him in due time.
This short exchange left me with a question to ponder: How has God responded to my disappointments? When I have felt let down by God, when I have felt genuine anger towards what I see as God’s failure to do what I think God should do, has God reacted by shutting me off from any experience of God’s presence?
So I leave this question to you as a Lenten exercise: When you have been angry with God, how has God responded?
Reflection 2: Worship is the act of declaring before God and the world what I consider to be the most valuable of all that I have and all that I am.
Because most of us here have been raised in an urban or suburban environment, we do not grasp the meaning of scriptural texts written by and for people living in agricultural and rural contexts. For example, the details of the animals that Abram sacrifices seem meaningless to us, yet there are some deeper values expressed here.
By sacrificing three animals that are three-years-old, Abram is not only sacrificing the animals themselves, but he is also sacrificing their future offspring as well. They are animals at an age when they could be counted on to produce more cattle, goats and sheep. Abram is not only sacrificing his present wealth; he is sacrificing his future as well.
This small detail causes me to ponder: What am I willing to offer to God – not just in the present but in the future? When I look at what I’m offering to God, is my vision a short-term one or a long-term one?
So I leave this question to you as a Lenten exercise: When you think about what you’re offering to God – your time, your talents, your treasure – whatever you’re offering, are you only thinking about the immediate present or are you looking at a longer term, something that may even extend beyond your life?
Reflection 3: God has bound God’s very self to us, without conditions, for eternity.
There is a strange scene in today’s reading from Genesis. After Abram has sacrificed the animals and then laid them out with a pathway between them, ‘. . . a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch passed between the pieces’. [iii] There are many interpretations of this verse, but the one that I find most compelling is this one.
The ‘smoking fire pot’ and ‘flaming torch’ represent the divine presence. By passing through the pieces, God is binding God’s very self to Abram, without conditions and for eternity, to fulfill the promise of descendants more numerous than the sands of the sea and the stars in the sky. God is saying to Abram, ‘If I fail to perform what I have promised, may I be as dead to you as these animals you have sacrificed.’
I found myself pondering how many believers of various faiths seem to behave as if God’s promises to us and to all creation are conditional – conditional on doing whatever is thought to be ‘right’, conditional on saying the right words, conditional on associating with the ‘right’ people. But God’s promises to humanity are unconditional. When God finishes creation, God does not say, ‘This is good only if . . . ‘, God says, ‘This is very good.’ When God restores the world after the flood, God does not say to Noah, ‘I won’t do this again only if . . . ‘, God places the rainbow in the sky as a reminder that God will never do this again. When the people of Israel rebel in the wilderness and God is tempted to destroy them, Moses leads God to promise to abide by the promises made at Passover.
So I leave this question to you as a Lenten exercise: When have you ever thought that God’s love for you was conditional on doing the right things, believing the right things, saying the right things? We do the right things, believe the right things, say the right things in gratitude for God’s unfailing and unconditional love for us.
Today when the reader had finished reading Genesis, we heard, ‘Hear what the Spirit is saying to the Church’, and we responded, ‘Thanks be to God.’ But had the reader said, ‘The Word of the Lord’, I believe that I could have easily said, ‘Thanks be to God.’ Thanks be to God for faithfulness even when I am angry. Thanks be to God for faithfulness even when I hesitant to offer my future as well as my present. Thanks be God for faithfulness even when I am doubtful of God’s unconditional love.
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