Stars

Genesis 15:1-6

Preached by Rev. Trina Zelle on February 28, 2010

“Billions and billions of stars.”  Do you remember those words, said with his distinctive plosive “B”? Astronomer and astrophysicist, Carl Sagan opened up the immensity of the universe to many of us with his 1980 Cosmos series on PBS which, since it first came out, has been seen by half a billion people around the world.

Billions and billions.  Close to what God tells Abram under the starry desert sky way back at the beginning of this heilsgeschicte – this holy history of which we are still a part.  Billions and billions.  Your descendents will be as numerous as the stars in the sky. 

“Billions and billions of stars.”

            Even without with Cosmos series, it is possible to comprehend the magnitude of the stars above us – even though we can’t count them all. Away from the city lights, they shine in all of their milky glory for us to see.  It’s much more of a stretch to comprehend the notion of countless descendents.  And then believe that such a notion could actually come to pass. Especially if you’re one little person, out in the middle of nowhere; past child-bearing age, with an elderly spouse who is also past child-bearing age.

Numerous as stars in the sky?

Talk about an ambitious vision statement!

But notice who the statement comes from. 

God.

Not Abraham.   

I suspect that it would have been an entirely different story – or maybe no story at all, if Abram’s vision of possibility had prevailed. After all, he was stuck in the immediate quandary of his childlessness:  “Eliezar will be my heir,” he sighs to God. His perspective was too narrow and time bound. “Numerous as the stars in the sky? I don’t think so” 

Left to his own devices, it never would have occurred to Abram to think that big.  And even if he had “thought big” it would have been in the human way of thinking big; and whatever his method of achieving it might have been, it would have limited his results. In fact, we can see what happens when he tries to get past the fact of his childlessness on his own – having a son through his servant girl, and setting off a disastrous chain of events that haunts us to this day.

No it’s not his vision that makes Abram the progenitor  of three faiths that today total half of the world’s population – 2 plus billion Christians, 1 plus billion Muslims, and 13.5 million Jews.  More than six times the number of people who have seen Cosmos.  Not to mention the billions of souls who have lived on earth since 4,000 BCE.  It wasn’t Abram’s vision through which all this happened, it was his faith that God’s promises were reliable.

Billions and billions. 

Faith like that rarely develops out of the blue.  It is built, it grows and it matures over years, over decades, and in this case over at least two generations.  Two generations of stepping out into the unknown to follow a god who was not even part of his religious belief system.  From what we can tell, it all begins with his father, Terah. 

According to Jewish tradition, Terah was a businessman. A manufacturer of idols – in the Ancient Near Eastern nation of Sumeria -- back then, top dog in the known world.   

            As Thomas Cahill, author of The Gifts of the Jews , speculates, Terah had his own theophany – his own encounter with God – years before his son Abram did. 

I imagine him sitting in his Sumerian business office. Balancing books.  Maybe thinking about how nice and predictable life was.  How great it was to live in the best country in the whole world. According to Sumerian Creation stories, the gods’ favorite people in the whole world, living exactly the way the gods wanted them to – especially the ruling class.

            But there was a problem -- although Terah didn’t realize it at the time. The Sumerian gods didn’t really exist.  Meaning that the assumptions around which Terah, and all the other Sumerians organized their lives, weren’t valid. But then along came the One who did and does and will continue to exist.  Forever.  A deity as restless as the Sumerians were sedate.  As real as the Sumerian gods were imaginary.  Moving as freely as a wind that blows across the desert and reconfigures its sandy patterns. Blowing across human lives and reconfiguring generational patterns into something new and unexpected.

            It looks like Terah got hit by one of God’s sand storms.  His lists, his inventories, his balance sheets; his life all flutter away. The clear message? Time to move on. And thus begins the family tradition. Our family tradition.

            In a move that probably stunned – and – who knows -- perhaps delighted his wife and children, including Abram, – Terah strikes out for places unknown, leaving everything familiar behind. The family doesn’t get all that far down the road, but it’s far enough to make a new a start. Things settle in again. And then one day Abram himself gets a similar call.

            Time to leave this place your father brought you to, Abram hears. This still isn’t the place I have in mind for you.  It’s over there.  Beyond the next horizon.

            It would seem that our attraction to the greener grass on the other side of the fence comes directly from the heart of our Creator, who definitely is not a stay-at-home kind of God.  Abram obediently pulls up stakes and moves.  And he’s no spring chicken.  Seventy five.  Some would say ready for congregate dining and pinochle.  But God isn’t limited by age or anything else. No matter what our age, being settled in isn’t what life is all about.  That’s for later.  Maybe.

            And to what new thing is God moving Abram? 

            The conversation begins with the promise: ‘I will give you many descendants and they will become a great nation.’ So far, what Abram hears serves as the basis of practically every religious tradition known to humanity, including Abram’s Sumerian ancestors.  “You and your people are special.”

            Then comes the new part: “I haven’t chosen you so you can feel special, but to bless everyone on earth. And oh, by the way, in order to do this, you’re going to have to leave everything, including the universe of meaning you presently inhabit.  Discard your inherited advantages.  Let go of all your guarantees.  Just trust Me.”

            Not special?  Extra work? The fine print of this vision is a little disconcerting!

But Abram does it.  And although the road turns out to be full of twists and turns and unexpected hazards, Abram remains faithful. And here we are today – yet another strand of this holy story.

And what about us? Are we ready to break camp and move on?  To follow this same restless desert God who promises to make us a blessing to others as well?  Are we ready to follow God’s vision for us.  Will we recognize it as it emerges? 

As we have been learning during this mission study month: “Re-imagining the Spirit of UPC”, during the interim period, a church is called upon to answer three questions:  Who are we? Who is our neighbor? And to what future is God calling us? This last is often referred to as our vision.

The first two questions are a piece of cake compared to this last one. Which is hard for several reasons – first and foremost, questions about the future are hard because the future hasn’t happened yet – it’s still out there – in the future.  Second, which future are we talking about – more to the point, whose future?  Remember, Abram was not a man of vision but a man of faith.  God pointed the way to him.  He bought into God’s vision.  Maybe our task isn’t so much about visioning this church’s future as it is to get better acquainted with this God that Abram, and Terah before him, saw fit to follow. Maybe if we can move into a deeper knowledge of the One who is calling us forward, and, based on that knowledge, actually follow that One, the vision will take care of itself.

Why did Terah follow God in the first place? Although we might come up with all kinds of theories about his innate piety and character, I would submit that Terah followed this unknown God, because this unknown God brought life and the promise of more life into a moribund, read declining, situation.

Put in real simple, and probably shallow terms, Terah followed this God, because he found this God to be more interesting – dare I say playful – dare I say fun – than the imaginary gods that he had been raised to worship.  And why not?  As all of us are, Terah was made in this God’s image.  I imagine that when his maker shows up and says, ‘forget those others, it’s been me you’ve longed for all along,” sparks fly. 

And so Terah and his family do forget those others and cast their lot with this unknown but strangely familiar God.

Our task is easier than Abram’s was because we are the heirs and beneficiaries of his family’s chutzpah.  And, because we have already met this God face in the person of Jesus. God’s revelation of God’s true self.  Your understanding of Jesus doesn’t match up with the restless, desert God who pulled Abram from his familiar surroundings and propelled him into the future?  Maybe it’s time to walk a little closer to Jesus and get to know him better.

Without that relationship with the One whose been here all along, our vision for the future of this church is going to be  too small.  The same way Abram’s vision was limited.    Abram looked around and only saw his deficiencies – he had no natural heirs and an elderly wife.  We look at that timeline on the wall and, being human, fixate on the declining numbers that begin half way between 1952 and 2010. 

While it would be a mistake to ignore those numbers under the assumption that things will just turn themselves around without us having to do anything; it would also be a mistake to let those numbers limit the scope of our vision. There are things that need to be taken care of including a reality check as to who and where we really are. But the future of this strand of the heilsgeschicte doesn’t hinge on those things.  Not really.  Anymore than Abram’s future hinged on his own competence or resources. 

God showed him the starry sky and said, your future is as abundant as those stars and will shine even more light on the whole world.  Come follow me. And Abram did and the rest is holy history.

I don’t have any advice as to how exactly this community of faith should make its way to the future planned for it by our restless, interesting, and playful God.  You’re already engaged in that good work and I am confident of what will emerge.  I do know that we can look back at what Terah and Abraham did.  Shrugged off the stuff that was holding them down, left their imaginary gods behind, and then held on tight for the ride of their lives.

We can’t imagine the future that God has in store for us but we can trust God that there is a future out there for us. And we can trust that, if we follow, God will lead us there.  So hold on tight and enjoy the ride.  Amen.