June 22: Genesis 21:8-21
I wonder if Isaac and Ishmael ever asked, “What would Dad do?” Their dad was the father of all Arabs, and the grandfather of Israel.
We all look back to Father Abraham. For Christians, it's a figurative connection. We say we're spiritual heirs. Arab Muslims, Christians, and Semitic Jews can climb down the branches of their family tree and find Abraham at the root.
Abraham's name means “father of a multitude,” but it doesn't make him much of a father. Abraham and Sarah have God's promise. But a promise doesn't make a baby. When all attempts fail, they resort to an accepted family practice. If there's no son and heir, take another wife. Sarah gives Abraham her slave, Hagar – who gets pregnant on the wedding night.
Sarah can't live with that. She orders Abraham to send Hagar into the wilderness, to die. Abraham does it. But God brings Hagar back to the family. A dozen years pass, and Sarah finally conceives.
We pick up the story at the party Abraham throws to celebrate his son's weaning. (Mothers, brace yourselves. In those days children were weaned sometime in their third year.)
Sarah has time on her hands now, and the penny drops. The family law that makes Hagar and her boy part of the family says Ishmael will inherit Abraham's estate. Abe is over 100, so that day will come soon.
Does this mean Ishmael will inherit God's promise, too? The promise of a mighty nation, which will be a blessing to the whole world.
Abraham gives in to Sarah again. This time, God tells him it's the right thing to do.
The right thing? To tear your family apart? To send a woman you care for, and your firstborn son, out to die in the desert? Custom and family law allow it! But is it right?
Abraham obeys, on the promise God will look after Hagar and Ishmael. God does, but not until it looks like they're going to die.
Don't blame God here, and please forgive the Genesis storytellers. They have no choice, and they can't allow Abraham a choice. Isaac is their child of promise. From this point on it's Israel's story. Period.
But don't forget. Ishmael is a child of promise, too. That's another story.
Isaac's grandchildren wondered why they and their neighbours, often their enemies, looked so much alike. Even acted alike a lot of the time. They found their answer in the story of Abraham, Sarah, and Hagar. I don't suppose it was a very helpful answer. As generations passed, Isaac's descendants forgot God's promise to Hagar. Isaac's spiritual kin, we Christians, haven't given our cousin Ishmael much notice. Some of us are afraid of his descendants, and call them our enemies.
This is a tough story to tell today. It reminds us that most of the Bible's stories about marriage and family don't promote our family-values agenda. It also brings us smack-dab into the middle of one of the biggest problems in the world today. Can Christians, Jews, and Muslims live together without strife? This isn't just about Palestine. Or Iraq. Or Afghanistan. I live in Nova Scotia, where the second language used to be German. Now it's Arabic. In a place where the religious mix hasn't changed much in centuries, Islam is growing. Peacefully, but not without resentment and some fear among the majority.
We make an absolute truth-claim about Jesus. We share this world with people who make other claims. Some, though not as many as we fear, assert their claims with violence. In the world's history, the days when the Church advanced its cause with the sword, are not long past. Today's reading reminds us that the seeds of fear, extremism, and violence grow well in the soil of sacred story. It also tells us God is free to make promises to whom God will. Would we all be better neighbours if we remembered God has a purpose for us all?
