March 29

Right now I am sitting at a chair near the door at the Riverghetto Starbucks. I know, I know. I am supporting the man. But not really. I am sitting quite contented with my Columbia bottle of water. Its not unbreakable, like a Nalgene, but my dad likes to effectively ruin my Nalgenes by using them for his morning protein shakes, which leaves them smelling like someone threw up in them.

Actually, I like Starbucks. Sometimes when I sit here trying to read and little Asian twins run around in circles shouting, "Wahhhhhhhmomwahhhhhh " it gets a little annoying. But, for the most part, despite the outrageous prices (A latte is only espresso, milk, and a little droplet of caramel sauce. Seriously, four dollars?), the unstoppable corporate force it has become, and the fact that I have been denied a job here despite applying 47 times, I like Starbucks. I have read lots of good books here. I have written many painfully-long blogs sitting on the little round tables of my neighborhood ’Bucks.

Right now I am at a little round table at my neighborhood ’Bucks , wearing my mom’s reading glasses, partly because I think they look cool but mostly because last night a few people told me that they looked cool. When I stare at anything but the computer screen for longer than three seconds, my eyes start to cross and I feel as if I might puke in my backpack, but overall it’s been worth it. When I walked in this girl looked at me and gave me a "you look good with glasses" look. I know that look when I see it.

Sometimes I like to listen to the things that the people around me are talking about. These three girls in their upper twenties are sitting closer to the window and are expressing their frustration with God. One of the girls told a story about one of her girlfriends whose husband was killed in Iraq, and whose son had cancer. While dealing with all of this, her friend had a car accident, rendering her completely helpless to care for herself or her ill son. They wondered, and I suppose it is understandable, "Where is God in all of this?"

They went on to talk about their own personal faith struggles, how sometimes they wish God would just bless them so that they would have the ability to bless others, if that’s what He wants. I lament for them, and I just wish for clarity in their hearts. John Eldredge has said before, and I agree, that about 90% of the time we have no idea what’s going on in the world around us, and no clue how to react to this experience that’s happening to all of us. On the way here, I had a moment of clarity (about 2.3 seconds, enough time to have this thought), and said to myself, everybody’s just driving around. I understand that this is pretty obvious, but think about it. At that moment, with my windshield wipers working overtime and lots of busy shoppers and mallgoers crowding the road, how many of us were actually going somewhere with a purpose? I realize that maybe someone was going to exchange some shoes or buy, say, lightbulbs, but I’m talking about having a real purpose. How many people at that red light on Conference Drive were really living? I admittedly wasn’t. The only reason I was using gas and polluting the environment was because I was tired of sitting at my house. So I was sort of just driving around. We all just drive around.

Right now over the speakers the song Don’t Fence Me In is playing. Aside from singing it in the sixth-grade school play and it bringing up memories of Laura Butterworth (wherever you are, I hope you know that I talk about this at least once a week) tripping and falling during the climactic final song, it opens my eyes to the fences that I live in.

I have thoughts on the B-I-B-L-E.

Once this semester, I read Genesis and took a lot of notes. These are simply my thoughts, and are not supported by anyone with legitimacy or authority, like a pastor. Oh, well.

First, I don’t think Abram or Sarai could have looked as old as they were. I mean, I think it’s entirely possible that Abram at 75 looked younger than, say, your Uncle Earl at 75. Especially Sarai. She was in her mid-70s and Abram still wrote that she was “a woman to be desired.” I have unfortunately desired a lot of women in my day and exactly none of them have even come close to birthday number five-o, much less 75. Anyway.

It always strikes me as weird what Abram does in Genesis 12. Right after saying that Sarai is a total hottie, he basically goes off and lies to save his butt, and makes Sarai sleep with Pharaoh (he must have slept with her, because it says he took her as his wife and she lived with him!). Not exactly the most chivalrous dude out there is Abram. I mean, surely he was embarrassed. He gave his wife away, took her back, left with all of Pharaoh’s crap, and sulked out of Egypt with all of it! Side note: going back to Sarai’s beauty, it is even more amazing that she was so accepted because she was a foreigner.

Why did God find so much favor in Abram? Because He enjoys raising up the unexpected? He truly does work in mysterious ways.

Abram liked altars.

Then, in Genesis 14, this happened: this amazing story with Abram basically getting ticked off because his family was in trouble. So he took a band of 300 men, snuck up on five kings and their armies (which undoubtedly vastly outnumbered Abram’s gang), killed them and took back Abram’s kidnapped nephew Lot. You should read that story. Basically, Abram teams up with Sodom and a few Amorites. You may recall that those two people-groups are generally regarded as godless, immoral, and wicked. And Abram teamed up with ‘em. Cool.

Ok, so I may be totally wrong about this next part, but I don’t think so. In Chapter 15, God is about to go into covenant with Abram (and with the rest of the race of man—forever), so its kind of a significant moment in history. In the last part of verse 12, “a deep sleep overcame Abram and then a sense of dread, dark and heavy.” This was when God was about to commit Himself to Abram in covenant. Fast-forward a billion years (as my Biology teacher would say) to when Jesus is on the Mount praying. Remember that Jesus is so overcome with dread and agony that he sweats blood? Jesus is about to establish God’s new covenant with mankind. Wow.

If you just read that part, you may have noticed the thing about the smoking pot and the flaming torch (and it was a pot that had smoke rising from it, not Abram smoking pot, although that might make more sense than a floating, flaming torch). Well this part is nuts. Patrick Schreiner, my excellent Bible study leader at Western, pointed this crazy verse out to us one night. He said that in those days, when a covenant was made between men, they would sacrifice a goat or a bull or whatever and cut it in half. Both agreeing parties would then walk through the split carcass, basically saying “If I break this covenant, let me be as these two halves—broken in two.”

NOW read the part about smoking pot. God Himself passes through the carcass in covenant with man. Us. Let God be broken in two if He breaks His covenant with us. Those are not my words, those are His.

In Chapter 16, we find another peculiar incident with K-Fed and Britney, um, Abram and Sarai. Sarai seems annoyed that God still hasn’t given her a child, so she whines to Abram and tells him to sleep with her maid (I guess this was common? Maybe?) Abram knows that God has promised him a son (Does Sarai know?), but did God promise him one by Sarai? Surely Abram had to be thinking about all this. Plus, after seeing that Abram pretty much lets Pharaoh do it with his wife, Sarai returns the favor. Interesting. I mean, wasn’t Sarai jealous? Weren’t things kinda awkward with her maid?

Check out verse 4. Serious girl drama. And in verse 5, the brat (there are only so many relatively nice words to use here for Sarai) Sarai blames everything on Abram!

If you read here, you’ll notice that Hagar looked down on Sarai. And wouldn’t you? She is the outcast, slave Egyptian who I’m sure Sarai is nice to but still kind of looks down upon. I mean, how can you not feel a little sense of superiority over someone you call ‘maid?’ Then, consider that Sarai is this incredibly beautiful woman—lauded in Hagar’s own country as amazingly gorgeous—who has this manly, rich, warrior husband, and she can’t have his child. So, Sarai has to majorly swallow her pride and ask Hagar to sleep with Abram to—watch this—bear Sarai a son! She’s going to count Hagar’s child as her own!

Cut to Abram. My man is in a tight spot. He gets to sleep with the young foreign mistress (and without guilt—heck his wife told him to!), then she gets pregnant with his own child! He has to have a soft spot in his heart for her. He probably shows her special affections, which undoubtedly make Hagar feel really special and even better than Sarai in some ways. Now the tides have turned! Hagar looks down on the sad, humbled Sarai! And Sarai’s ticked! So she brings Abram back into it…”it’s your fault!”

“Hey, woman! You told me to sleep with her!” Freakin’ soap opera.

Then we see where Sarai becomes abusive and “dealt harshly with her”…this is crazy. This is who God has chosen to redeem mankind with: the offspring of this dirty pirate hooker Sarai.

Now I tend to wonder if Hagar was feeling guilty at all. She was a humble servant, doing nothing more than she was told, and was probably very nice and gentle. Then, she became haughty and proud and it led to her master throwing her into the desert. You know she loved her master. She loved Sarai.

God tells her to “go back to Sarai and submit to her.” Wow. What a secret to mending a relationship—submission.

IMPORTANT!

When Hagar is exiled in the desert, he shows His unconditional compassion and mercy (For the second time? A third?). The other instances:

1. Cain
2. The covenant with Abram
3. Calling the poor, wandering Hagar home

When God calls Hagar home, she cries out to Him, “You’re the God who sees me!” Amen.

God makes huge strides here in proclaiming His gospel of seeing and caring for the loser and outcast in this passionate pursuit of Hagar. Now, she returns home, humble and knowing she is seen and loved for who she is. No longer does she have to flaunt her pregnancy as her identity. She has Ishmael. Abram is 86.

We’ll stop here. There are lots more Abram thoughts to come!