If you go nosing around in the Book of Genesis, you will find Abram and Sarai, two good natured older adults
who have been asked by God to leave their land, their family, and home for an undesignated place; a place that God will show them in time. We’re not told why God chose them. We're not told if they were people of devout faith or if they were a couple hoping to travel in retirement and thought this invitation sounded like a good way to get the ball rolling. Genesis 12 only tells us: The Lord said to Abram, “Leave your land, your family, and your father’s household for the land that I will show you.” And so, they did.
The invitation did, however, come with some pretty great promises. Abram is told he will be the father of a great nation- which is no small thing since he and Sarai have no children. And well, given their age, it's a pretty amazing promise. He’s also told he will be given land… more than he can possibly imagine. And he’s told all the families of the earth will be blessed because of him. So, there really IS some incentive for Abram and Sarai to turn everything upside down and leave home. But still… it seems like a lot to ask of some folks who may be just beginning to draw their social security.
As I think of Abram and Sarai's bravery and courage, I’m mindful of something, Andre Gide, the winner of the 1947 Nobel Prize in Literature once wrote:
“One does not discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time.”
When God called Abram and Sarai to leave their home, to our knowing they never returned. They not only lost sight of their home shore, they never saw it again. Once they were asked to leave they never returned. And even if they did go back for a brief visit, they were not the same people as when they left. Because that’s what happens when we leave one place for another; that’s what happens when we leave our land, our family, and our households for new ones. We change.
I think this is why Abram and Sarai make ideal Lenten companions. For what are these days before us if not a journey where we too are invited to “leave our land”; to make a prayerful and intentional examination of our lives and discern what God is calling us to hold on to and what to leave behind. To do so, invites honest scrutiny and arm wrestling choices where we envision different paths we’ve not yet taken. It’s an invitation to go on a journey by way of redefining the stories we're living by. In place of living in the land of waste, self-absorption, apathy, arrogance, fear, excuses, and harm, Lent asks us to leave for an "undesignated place that with God's help we will find in time." And as we go, we may begin to catch a glimpse of the new territory before us, a new land where the stories that define us are full of blessing, hope, reconciliation, love, and promise. We only have to consent to leave our familiar shores behind.
Which of course, is why such a journey can be so hard. Because leave taking-of any kind- involves loss, risk, change, and grief. We’re not privy to any of the emotional upheaval, doubt, questions or internal wrestling Abram and Sarai must have surely endured to make such a life altering decision. We’re only told…”Abram left just as the Lord told him.” And yet, it's not hard to picture this older couple fretting, arguing, and worrying over, "What are we doing?!" What have we done?! It's not hard to think of them sobbing, as they look at their home, through the rear view mirror of their wagon, one last time.
Ed Moore helps me remember this was no easy thing for Abram and Sarai...
“I saw at once, and for the first time, that God asked Abraham and Sarah to lose parts of themselves before they could begin the covenant journey: their homeland, their clan connection, which meant everything in that culture. I saw, for the first time, that they began the covenant journey in grief, in loss, and that that grieving, that loss began the highway to the new Jerusalem.” (Ed Moore is the head pastor of North Shore Baptist Church in Bayside,
New York)
Though we are never told as much, I often think about how afraid these two older souls must have been. While offering extraordinary faith in their willingness to follow God's leading, Abram and Sarai must have been so afraid. All they had before them, besides the good Lord's leading was the fear of the unknown and the fear of meeting people who would surely be different from them. Which is why I want to follow along after them this Lent. Their witness has something to say about leaning into the invitation of "discovering new lands" when it's the last thing I want to do. Their lives offer a witness of faithfulness that's not defined by certainty and free of questions but one that is open to growth and change while being afraid of what it might bring. Abram and Sarai's story doesn't negate the fear they must have felt. It just didn't define their choices and the way they lived their lives. Maybe this is why we never hear anything about it.
At a time in their lives where they had become perhaps a good bit settled, had things in order, were not looking for anything new to stir the pot, and may have stopped being curious about their own purpose and place in the world, God chooses this time to offer the invitation to "leave." I think it's a lot like the invitation God extends to us during Lent. There's a lot of security and ease in what's familiar and known. But that's not what following Jesus, or for that matter, walking the path of Lent is all about. And so, God offers a season to wake us back up and do all of those things we thought we were done with like....becoming unsettled, stirring the pot, and becoming curious about everything... especially our lives and our purpose and place in the world. It's why Lent is not for the faint of heart. If taken seriously it's call for repentance and reflection will bring us to tears, drop us to our knees, induce our own version of "Lieutenant Dan's "questioning rage and have us leaving debilitating and dangerous stories for promising, hopeful ones kicking and screaming. It will take us where we never thought we would go.... to a new land with life-giving stories. Perhaps this is something of what Annie Dillard meant when she wrote...
"It is madness to wear ladies' straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets. Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews. For the sleeping god may wake someday and take offense, or the waking god may draw us out to where we can never return."
All of this may make us feel afraid and turn away from Lent and for that matter, Jesus altogether. Which is OK. We can be afraid, uncertain, angry, frustrated, hurt, and unsure about everything. Our feelings don't need to be negated. They just don't have to define the story we live. Somehow through the course of their lives Abram and Sarai learned this and were open to great change late in their lives. Their faithful witness gives me hope for my weak one. Their story encourages me to step out toward some new land where the stories that define me are full of blessing, hope reconciliation, love, and promise. I only have to consent to leave my familiar shores behind. Perhaps Lent, this year, may disrupt us all to follow where the good Lord is leading. Perhaps it will inspire a life-giving curiosity that will change us. May it be so.
Lenten Blessings, Leslee
If you're looking for a couple of great resources for Lent this year I highly recommend spending some time with Brian McClaren and Garreth Higgens' podcast,
The Seventh Story: https://podtail.com/podcast/learning-how-to-see-with-brian-mclaren-jacqui-lewi/the-seventh-story/
Also be sure to check out Carol Wilson's Table Grace:
Brian, Garreth, and Carol are wonderful companions for helping us follow Jesus.
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