Sermon
prepared for PLU Chapel Service, Tacoma WA—Monday; 11/26/01,
by Gregory S.
Kaurin, Associate Pastor of Messiah Lutheran Church, Auburn WA
Text: Hebrews 11:8-12, 17-19
The Sermon--
A Gracious
Mystery
Go to: sermon menu
– or – archive
– or – home page
I
want to share with you two things recently heard about faith. First, our faith is grounded on a
mystery. Second, that mystery is
gracious.
It
may seem a bit demeaning to call God a “mystery.” Because of his revelation—especially through Jesus Christ, God is
more tangible than a “mystery,” and he is also greater than mystery, more alive
and real.
So,
in calling God a mystery, we are going beyond an Agatha Christie novel. Even though we have an idea where this story
is headed, the mystery of God is still something well beyond Hercule Poirot’s
ability to solve.
This
gets at something important about faith.
Douglas John Hall has written that—like most of the important biblical
virtues (virtues like love, hope, compassion, and forgiveness)—all of these and
faith are all about relationships. Faith is, first and foremost, a relationship. Faith is not a set of descriptive beliefs,
it is not religious talking points, or doctrinal claims. Faith is a relationship with a living
being. In our creeds, we do not start
by saying, “I believe these things about God.”
We say, “I believe in God.”
Faith
is saying that God is so present and real to you, you know him to be a constant
part and influence in your life. And
you base that knowledge, not on a fact, but on trust.
Trust—this
is where the mystery fits in. When you
trust someone, you go beyond what you really know about him or her. Even when that person is your closest
friend, or even a spouse, trust means believing in them beyond what you can
really know for sure. Trust always
“involves decision and risk”[1]
We
do not know God, not in the sense that we can make any absolute judgments about
the limit or extent of his mercy. We
cannot absolutely determine that “I’ve got him and you don’t.” And still I trust, first and foremost, his
claim on me, his relationship with me.
I may wax and wane and struggle and wrestle with him, trying to discern
where he needs me, or what he wants from me.
My trust in him, includes all kinds of doubts, but I have to believe his
claim on me still remains.
Our
faith is grounded on a mystery. That
can keep us humble enough to keep us listening to each other. It forces us to keep studying, keep praying,
and searching.
But
the second statement is just as important.
The mystery is gracious. It is
the reason we can trust. It’s what
gives us peace. Even when we are faced
with the biggest tests of our life, when we’re buried by issues and crises:
“PEACE!” We have peace because we
absolutely trust that even death has no ultimate power—we remain in God’s
hands.
Life
is serious…important…but always passing, changing, hurting, healing, falling,
and rising. We can let things and
people come into our lives, and then let them go when we have to. We have peace because our faith is, first
and foremost, a relationship with a mysterious God—who is gracious.
We
look at Abraham’s faith, described in our lesson. Sometimes we make the mistake of calling it “blind” faith. It is true that St. Paul once wrote that we
walk by faith, and not by sight. But it
is not “blind.” Faith is a kind of
wide-eyed, far-seeing sight.
Faith
is not blinded by what’s right in front of us.
It trusts a much longer view, and trusts God’s promises and directions
may include, but also lay beyond what is right now.
Sarah
had faith, too. But at least when she
heard that she would become pregnant in her old age, at least she laughed and
expressed some doubt. We can relate to
her!
We
ask and wonder, then, why was Abraham so willing to kill his son, why so
unquestioning? Why so “blind”? But I notice in that Old Testament story
that, when Abraham packed his things to take his son up for the sacrifice, he
told no one, especially not his wife what he was doing, what he had been told
to do.
Even
when Isaac asked him, “What’ll we use for the sacrifice, father?” still Abraham
evaded the question. Honestly, I think
he was struggling with this horrible thing.
Couldn’t bear to say it out loud.
Maybe
he carried a hope that he would be stopped, that God would, in fact, send a
different sign, a message that would stop the direction of this. I know that as he and Isaac made their way,
Abraham’s eyes were searching horizons and clouds. His ears were listening to every sound. His heart was praying, “Father, not this, let this thing
pass. Give me a sign. But not what I want. What you will, Father.”
Yes,
but still, why was he willing to do this thing? This was his promised child!
How could Abraham willingly kill the one that God promised would give
birth to his uncountable grandchildren of the promise?
Faith,
trust, sees beyond, trusts beyond what is immediately in front of us. It trusts that we don’t know the how or when
of everything. It believes that God is
a greater mystery, and trusts that this mystery is gracious.
Abraham
may not have known how, but he believed that God could do even what seemed
impossible. God would fulfill his
promises, through the line of Isaac, his numberless descendants would come from
this child—even if it needed to be done through a miracle of sacrifice and
resurrection.
It
is easy, this time of year, to get bogged down and stressed out. When it happens. Stop …for just a moment.
These things in front of you may be important. They are not ultimate.
Your faith is ultimate. Work
hard, but always keep your eyes of faith resting—not on what’s right in front
of you—but on the one who’s leading you.
In
Christ, sacrificed and raised, we have faith.
Nothing can stop what God has decided—even if it takes a miracle. Faith is first and foremost a relationship. Faith knows that it is grounded in a great
mystery, but trusts that the mystery is gracious.
May
that peace, which surpasses all understanding, keep your hearts and minds on
Jesus Christ. Amen.
Go to: sermon menu
– or – archive
– or – home page