My eighth-grade American history teacher was determined not to give up on me. I wasn’t a bad student or poorly behaved. My teacher did not need to summon great patience to keep me in line or motivate me to do my work. My teacher chose not to give up on me because I was painfully shy.
Each day I entered his classroom, where he stood at the door as gatekeeper while also monitoring the sometimes-unruly hallways. And each day, my teacher insisted that, before I entered the room, I was to engage in some kind of small talk with him. It could be about the weather or a topic we were studying in class. But the deal was that it had to be more than a simple hello.
As I recall, I was more than a little irritated with this demand. I had no say in the matter, really. My teacher would be giving me a grade in the class and was my elder, and so I had little choice but to acquiesce to his request that I come out of my shell just a little bit.
At the time, my teacher’s actions seemed a bit over the line, even perhaps cruel. But in hindsight, I see that his actions were intended to help me. My teacher rightfully discerned that I had difficulty speaking freely with others, especially authority figures or strangers. I also suspect that he saw something in me that he felt could eventually benefit from being less reticent.
My teacher was determined not to give up on me, as much as I struggled to come up with small talk that wasn’t merely about the weather—which was always the same in southeast Texas, hot and humid.
I’m especially grateful for my teacher’s foresight, especially since I have been called to ministry where it’s important to speak comfortably and freely with all manner of people and inhabit pulpits like this one. My teacher could never have known how my life would end up. But I suspect he saw that there was some seed of potential that he might play a small part in shaping. He intervened in my life when I didn’t ask for it or want it. He was never finished with helping me live into a future that perhaps he alone could see.
Who was that person in your life, the one who never gave up on you? Who was the person who was never finished trying to help you or make you a better you? Or when was the last time that someone did give up on you? When was the last time that someone threw in the towel and made it abundantly clear that they were finished with you? And did you ever perceive that the person who was finished with you was God? Worn down by suffering or unanswered prayers, have you ever sensed that God has given up or been too busy to make time for you?
I wonder if Abraham, at age ninety-nine, felt that God was finished with him and Sarah. When God chose to appear to Abraham at his ripe old age, he and Sarah had certainly been through a lot with God. At age seventy-five, God appeared to Abraham and summoned him to a distant land, and Abraham and Sarah, along with their family, got up and went—no small feat. They even fled to Egypt to avoid a famine, all because God had them leave their homeland in the first place. Abraham and Sarah stuck with God.
And although God had already promised Abraham and Sarah a legitimate heir, at age eight-six, Abraham had come to doubt whether this would ever happen. At Sarah’s bidding, he took Sarah’s slave girl, Hagar, and with her had a child, Ishmael. I suppose that Abraham thought that God had reneged on his promise of an heir or was finished with him. So, he and Sarah took matters into their own hands.
But God was not yet finished with them. Full of gray hair, aching limbs, and a full life lived in faithfulness to God’s initial calling, Abraham and Sarah had settled in for their retirement years. Unbidden, God chose to appear once again to Abraham and announce that he and Sarah would have a son. And not only that. Abraham and Sarah would be the progenitors of a fruitful lineage, through which God would establish his covenant.
To mark this new beginning, even at age ninety-nine, God gave Abraham and Sarah new names. This renaming signaled God’s intention of a prosperous future for Abraham’s progeny. The very names God gave them manifested God’s intentions for Abraham and Sarah. Abram, or “exalted ancestor” morphed into Abraham, or “ancestor of a multitude.” Sarah would be a “princess” of kings and influential people. Abraham’s name change showed that God did not see Abraham as a moribund relic of the past but as the beginning of a new line of people blessed by God. Abraham’s new name was not backwards looking but positioned towards the future. Like God’s own Name, that would be revealed to Moses, Abraham’s new name was dynamic, bearing the seeds of generations to come who would be called to serve the Lord.
It is often surprising when God chooses to appear and bless us. Sometimes unbidden, perhaps especially in those moments when we believe God is finished with us, God comes into our lives and announces a new future for us. For some, God was seen to have given up a long time ago. Years of tragedy and perceived abandonment lead some to give up on God when he has never really given up on them.
For others, a life of prosperity and immense blessing may mistakenly cultivate a sense that God is finished because everything is perfect with life. God has done his good work in us, we have responded, all is taken care of, and we are set for our eternal reward. God is finished, and so are we.
Sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism, many go their own ways, convinced that the deed is done, their fire insurance received, and the journey is ended. But God’s relationship with Abraham and Sarah reminds us that the work is only beginning when we are washed in the waters of baptism.
God knows, much better than we usually do, that we will wander. We will go astray, sometimes stubbornly and deliberately, sometimes inadvertently. Years might be spent in the wilderness, experiencing loneliness and despair. But God does not leave. Always, always, God noticeably enters our lives and announces a new future for us.
It is understandable why some are convinced that God is finished with them. They have either done all the good they think they can do, or they feel too tired and too old to try anything new. Some settle in for the long, slow decline. We are told that the Church is fighting futilely against a secular age, and so we may as well throw in the towel and hand it over to God. Parishes reduced to crumbles by conflict and strife imagine that the doors will soon close forever. God is finished, and we cannot change its course.
Like Abraham at eight-six, when we perceive that God is finished with us, we might still recall his promises of old. We sense that God has something good in store for us, but God seems to be seriously procrastinating. We take matters into our own hands to help God along. But look what happened to Abraham and Sarah. Ishmael aside, God stepped in, belatedly and unbidden, and announced that he had a different future in store for them.
It is not different for us. We know that God has not given up on us and is not finished with us because God was not finished with Abraham. God told Abraham that he would make an everlasting covenant with him, marked by the sign of circumcision. Generations and generations to follow would be a part of this gesture of God’s blessing. Precisely when we are too tired and burned out and have given up hope is the time to recall the seal of our baptism and to remember that God is never finished with us.
There will be times when we will laugh like Abraham and Sarah. God, what are you doing with this tired, old body? God, how can this small parish with financial challenges ever get back on its feet again? And we laugh sometimes to avoid the responsibility that we know God is laying on our shoulders.
But God is not offended. God hears our laugh and understands that in our human frailty, it is simply too difficult to maintain our trust in him. We too often measure God by human standards. One too many acts of betrayal or human neglect are projected onto God.
God, though, is never finished with us. God never gives up on us. Time and again, God has appeared unbidden into the story of humanity and given us new names when we have become too ensconced in the malaise of our old ones. God always has a new future in store for us. The story is never finished.
You may not remember when the waters of baptism were poured on your head. Or perhaps you have not yet had that experience. But in those waters, God reminds you of your past and tells you about your future. God seals your place in that great lineage of people sired by Abraham at the ripe old age of ninety-nine. God gently accepts your laughter at his intervention in your life and changes your name anyway.
God has never given up on you. God is not finished with you. God is always reminding you that he has a glorious future for you.
Sermon by Father Kyle Babin
The Second Sunday in Lent
February 28, 2021