July 22, 2007
Genesis 18: 1-10a
The Bible tells us that the LORD appeared to Abraham by the oaks of Mamre, as he sat at the entrance of his tent in the heat of the day. This wonderful story is often used to impress on us just how special was Abraham the Patriarch, that God should appear to him in this way.
But you know that one of the keys for me of biblical interpretation is the notion that Abraham's story is our story. Yes, Abraham played an essential role in spiritual history. But before he was Abraham the Patriarch, he was Abram the nomad hustler, not above pawning off his own wife as an available sister when it enhanced his personal security and business prospects to do so. It was not Abraham's greatness of character that made him the father of three major world religions and put him on God's appointment calendar. It was God's persistent, transforming visitations of this spiritual diamond in the rough that made Abram into Abraham. So, if Abraham's story is our story, then perhaps we should ask what clues we might find in this episode to help us discern and make sense of God's visitations in our lives.
It probably should be said that this appearance by the oaks of Mamre was not altogether unexpected. Abraham was used to this sort of thing, with the LORD appearing from time to time, telling him certain things, making certain promises and then leaving Abraham to figure it all out. Abram and his wife (then known as Sarai) were minding their own business in what is now southern Iraq (near the border with Kuwait), when along came this Yahweh God, looking for a people to call his own. God kept appearing to Abram, giving him a new name and sending him into the Land of Canaan, the land of Promise, in present day Palestine. Abraham and Sarah "moved their tent" (their extended family group) to the oaks of Mamre. Now, the oaks of Mamre was an ancient sacred place, known as holy ground. And there, Abraham set up an altar to Yahweh and waited for the ongoing revelation of God's vision of a great nation formed from his descendents.
So, one way the story can help interpret our own experience is to understand that God is persistent, coming to us over time. And, we learn that God is patient and purposeful, revealing only as much as we can process at a given point. Third, although God may initiate contact without the slightest intention on our part, it does seem that God responds to our invocation, especially as our relationship develops. Having already been graced with multiple appearances and made aware of a great destiny, Abraham deliberately sought out a "thin place", where human and divine were known to meet, and set up an altar (which is really just a kind of dining table). Where are our own thin places where we go when we want to be close to God? Poetry? Music? Nature? Friendship? In what ways to we lay a table for God to come and break bread with us?
There is a verse in The Book of Hebrews, which counsels "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that, some have entertained angels without knowing it." This is certainly good advice. . . for in fact, we are not always aware of all that goes on around us, or in whose presence we might be.
However, this verse is traditionally interpreted as a reference to Abraham's hospitality to the LORD in Genesis 18. A superficial reading of the text might suggest that Abraham was somehow fooled by the appearance of the "three men", that he thought they were simple travelers in the desert. But let's remember that Abraham had, by now, plenty of experience with these appearances. When Moses encountered Yahweh on Mt. Sinai, he got a cosmic sunburn. When the disciples encountered Jesus on the road to Emmaus, did not their hearts burn within them?
No, I don't think you encounter the great and Holy One of Israel without having it register on some level. I think Abraham absolutely knew that his visitors were Yahweh in triple form. Notice that even when he invites the three men to "rest yourselves" and "refresh yourselves", he addresses them collectively as "My Lord". In relation to ordinary travelers in the desert, Abraham would have seen himself as a benefactor. But here, he refers to himself as "your servant".
Abraham had come to expect the inbreaking of the Holy, come to expect the appearance of God, and learned to recognize the intensity of the vibration when the Holy One comes near. It's not as if the three men were a disguise and Abraham saw through it. It was more like the three men gave Abraham a different experience of the Holy - holiness mediated through three persons.
Much has been made of "the hospitality of Abraham", how he jumped up when the strangers appeared and "ran from the tent entrance to meet them, and bowed down to the ground", and brought water to wash their feet and food to sustain them for their journey. It has been rightly said that Abraham demonstrates the ancient custom of the desert, where traveling strangers are met not with suspicion but are given welcome and protection. But on a deeper level, is this not also the kind of hospitality we would want to offer the LORD should God come to us? Abraham is alert, observant and ready to leap into action.
The other thing I take from the story is that these appearances are part of an unfolding revelation, a progressive disclosure of Abraham's calling. When we sense that the LORD has come near to us, in prayer or meditation, through the deep resonance of a hymn, through witnessing acts of compassion, or through the beauty of Creation, we should be alert for the purpose of this encounter in our lives.
When my son Patrick was born premature, in critically condition, I had an extremely powerful encounter with Christ in prayer. The immediate purpose of the experience seemed obvious; to give me courage and hope for the present moment, and for eternity to believe that my son's life was in the hands of a loving God. What was less obvious at the time was that this visitation of the Holy would forever shape my fundamental understanding of God. As children, we used to sing "Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so." As an adult, I had to learn this for myself, not as an idea to accept or reject, but as a reality to be experienced; ours is a God of limitless, inexhaustible Love. It is good that the Bible tells me so, but even better when God's own self tells me so.
This encounter set in motion a chain of events which would define my life to the present day, a progressive calling to tell others about this loving God, and help build up communities where this love can be embodied and demonstrated.
So, let us find our thin places. Let us set up our altars. Let us develop our spiritual faculties, to sense the presence of the Holy and become familiar with the quality of its vibration. Let us consciously and prayerfully knit together our various experiences of holy presence, that we might begin to discern a pattern of revelation and the shape of a divine call in our lives. Let us sit at the door of our tents, not drowsing in the heat of the day, but alert and ready to offer welcome to the holy whenever it comes, whatever tidings it brings.
AMEN