Sometimes stories in the Bible, especially from the Old Testament, seem harsh to our modern ears.  Still, there is something for us to learn from this tale of Hagar and Sarah.

Hagar and Sarah

Genesis 21:8-21; Psalm 86:1-10, 16-17  Hagar and Sarah

This summer we are following the story of the Patriarchs of the faith: Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. But as we do that, we are also following the Matriarchs of Israel: Sarah and Hagar, Rebekah, Rachel, and Leah. They are an interesting bunch, these women of the ancient past. They often appear by wells or springs, particularly when they are about to become wives. They are often barren, but those who are to have children receive divinely sent annunciations of one kind or another. Some engage in trickery or deception to further the careers of their husbands or sons.

It is hard to know, from our modern perspective, just what to make of all of this.

On the one hand, we hear the stories of these women only as they concern the affairs of their fathers, husbands, and sons. It is the linking of clans, not the attraction between individuals, that is celebrated in their marriages. On the other hand, when we read carefully, it seems that some of them have more power and influence than we would expect of women in that ancient culture of the Middle East. In particular, it appears that the women are the critical ancestors for the proper continuation of the Israelites. As we hear in today’s lesson, it is Sarah who must bear the heir for Abraham, and not Hagar. Later in the story, we will likewise learn that it is Rachel (and not Leah) who will be the mother of Joseph. And the blessing and inheritance that are expected to go to Esau as the older son of Rebekah and Isaac, instead are given to Jacob, who is his mother’s favorite. All through this family line, it is the wishes of the women that are in line with God’s wishes.

Biblical scholar Susan Niditch puts it this way:

“…virtually no hero worth his salt in Genesis is born under circumstances that are ordinary for his mother. It is the unusual and often initially infertile women who have special births. It is their sons who count in the ongoing tradition. These women mother nations and receive special communications about the child to be born. [Susan Niditch, “Genesis,” in The Women’s Bible Commentary, Carol A. Newsom and Sharon H. Ringe, editors. Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1992]

Niditch’s view, of course, is not the traditional reading of the story of Sarah and Hagar. In the conventional reading, these two women seem to be rivals, jealous of one another and vying for their sons to be the rightful heirs of Abraham. It is not very flattering for either of them, but it surely has a ring of truth to it. Like most of the stories in the Bible, this tale of two women and their rivalry is not a tale populated by perfect role-models, but by imperfect characters.

Characters are, I think, far more interesting and engaging than role-models. Those that we hold up as models, those whom we think of as perfect, must by necessity be rather simply drawn: Heroes are always heroic, and villains are always villainous. That is certainly not our experience in real life. In real life, our heroes often disappoint or disillusion us with their foibles and failings, and villains often confuse us with moments of compassion, loyalty, and honor. Characters – in literature, drama, public life, or the Bible – draw us into their stories because they are not portrayed in simple ways, but in genuinely human and complex and contradictory ways.

Consider Sarah and Hagar. Sarah (then called Sarai) left her home and family in response to God’s command to Abraham (still named Abram). Along the way were many hardships, including a painful interlude in Egypt when Abraham insisted that she be named as his sister instead of his wife. She ended up in the harem because Abraham feared that otherwise his life would be in jeopardy. It seems likely that the servant (really slave) Hagar joined their household in Egypt. Anyway, God had promised Abraham that he would have many descendants, and yet Sarah was barren. So she suggested that Abraham take her servant Hagar as a “second wife” (interesting euphemism, that). Since Sarah was the “first wife,” the child would “count” familially as hers, even if it were not biologically hers.

As we might expect, this plan did not go well! When Hagar became pregnant, she developed what we would call “an attitude” – in the words of the 16^th chapter of Genesis, “she looked with contempt on her mistress.” Sarah complained to Abraham, who told her to deal with Hagar as she wished. The harsh treatment continued, and Hagar ran away. God intervened, Hagar returned home, and Ishmael was born.

God intervened with Sarah as well, and she, too, bore a son – Isaac. When Isaac was old enough to be weaned, the rivalry between the women heated up again, and once again Hagar was banished, this time with her son. And once again God intervened, provided water to save Hagar and Ishmael.

We could not write a modern story about marriage, relocation, infertility, surrogate motherhood, jealousy, and generally dysfunctional family relationships with any more drama than is found in this ancient narrative. Whether we have lived personally though any of those events, or just watched as relatives and friends did, we recognize what is going on here. But the punch line in the Biblical narrative is that God is present and working in and through all of these events. We might expect that God would be present and working in spite of these events; the surprise is that God enters into this messy situation and, through it, creates and blesses God’s people, Israel.

That is not to suggest that God creates chaotic human situations in order to do great deeds. On the contrary, we human beings are quite capable of stirring up chaotic situations without any divine assistance. What God does is to travel with us on our untidy and fitful life journeys, transforming our fallibilities and our follies. The Kingdom of God is not being created from perfection, but from reality.

When I was a seminary intern, one of my assignments was to work with the youth group at the Woodside Village Church. As a way to get acquainted, I asked each of them to draw a family tree for their family. I was surprised at their reluctance to share these drawings, until I realized that every one of them had a complication of some kind. So I had them open the Bible to the book of Genesis, and we made a family tree for Abraham and Sarah and their descendents. They were startled to realize that the things they were self-conscious about were the same things that were found in families in the Bible.

And in an only slightly more sophisticated way, I think we are all surprised when we see that our own foibles, our own failings, our own errors, and (yes) our own sins are all portrayed for us in scripture. If we can look past the differences in culture between modern America and the ancient Middle East, and if we can somehow translate the particulars of life then (like shepherds and mangers to temples and crucifixion) to the particulars of life now – if we can do that, we find ourselves on these pages.

One word of warning about that discovery though: we rarely find our whole selves in any one Biblical character. Most of us are not just Sarah (unhappy when we get what we thought we wanted), or just Hagar (resentful when required to do something we didn’t choose); most of us have had both of these experiences. We are not asked to be just Mary or just Martha; we are not asked to be just Peter or just Paul (or even just Judas). God does not need us to recreate and portray biblical characters in our own lives, as though the Bible was the great script of human history and we were the repertory company.

Better, I think, to consider the Bible as the journal of the people of God: a volume in which faithful people have told their stories – warts and all – about their encounters with God and with all that is holy. We learn from their stories, but our faith is not about copying their journal entries, it is about compiling our own memoirs, our own stories about our encounters with God and with all that is holy. May we do that with as much fierceness and honesty as our grandmothers in the faith, Sarah and Hagar.

Amen.

Prayer for June 22, 2008

Almighty and everlasting God, creator of all things seen and unseen, hear now our silent prayers, as we open our hearts to you in the sacred quietness.

God of faith and hope, we bring before you our prayers for those we have named this morning – we especially remember … Bring to each of them the gifts of mercy and grace that are most needed, according to your wisdom and love.

God of all times and all places, we pray this morning for all those who are victims of floods.

We remember first our neighbors in the Midwest whose homes, farms, schools, and businesses have been damaged by storms and flooding. We pray for their patience, persistence, and hope in the months ahead as they clean up and begin to rebuild. We pray, too, for all the family members, friends, and volunteers who have already come – and will continue to come – to their aid.

We remember, too, the victims of flooding in China. Help us, we pray, to care as deeply for the suffering of our far-away neighbors as we do for those who are close at hand. Instill in us the resolve to offer our aid to all people who are suffering, and to recognize the ways in which our common suffering can bring us together.

We pray this morning also for the floods that wash over our souls when too much bad news, too many financial reverses, too many deaths, too much trouble rushes over us.. Help us to hold fast in the midst of these rising waters: to remember that you are always with us, to remember that ill fortune is not a judgment upon us, to remember that we are companions to one another in times of trouble.

And we ask for forgiveness for the floods that we help to cause. When our self-centeredness and greed bring deprivations to other people, open our eyes and help us to undo what we have done. When our carelessness brings care to our neighbors, call us to account.

Since we cannot always get out of the way of the floods of life, we pray O Gracious God, that you will make lessons for us out of these disasters. Teach us to be more reflective about the possible outcomes of our actions; help us to hear the cries of those who are threatened by the rising waters; draw us into acts of compassion that will ease suffering, and acts of justice that will prevent more suffering in the future.

All these things we ask in the name of the one with the power to calm the storm, even Jesus the Christ, and we pray together now in the words that he taught us …