 Abraham and the New Math
Rev. Eric Landry
Genesis 18:16-33
The prevailing message of the Book of Genesis seems to be that
God is gracious to a fault. That is, that as much as we might
expect to see God act in judgment, he always seems to temper his
judgment with grace and with mercy. Even in the course of giving
judgment, mercy is the silver lining of his clouds of wrath.
This is an important message for our culture to hear since so
many people in our lives divide the God of the Old Testament
from the God of the New Testament, thinking that one God is full
of wrath and justice while the other is full of mercy and grace.
It’s also an important message for the church to remember, for
it is a constant temptation for those who have received mercy
from God to neglect mercy when face to face with those who seem
less deserving. This is the attitude at the heart of Jesus’
parable about the ungrateful servant in Matthew 18; we also see
it reflected in Jesus’ conversation with Simon the Pharisee in
Luke 7 when Jesus welcome a prostitute into the pharisee’s home.
Unfortunately, the attitude that Jesus warned against and
actively rejected is sometimes seen among those who bear his
name when they use the most hateful invective against those
sinners “out there” who deserve the full complement of God’s
wrath. You remember of course the dire pronouncements of men
like Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson against the city of New
Orleans in the wake of Hurricane Katrina: that the natural
devastation was God’s judgment against the city’s gay
population.
What we find in this second half of Genesis 18, however, is a
tantalizing portrait of the effect of grace in an individual and
the possibility of what grace might mean for an exceedingly
wicked city. The question that we must wrestle with as we
consider this passage is, “Is there good news, even for Sodom,
or will sin and wickedness overrule all of God’s attempts to
renew his kingdom in a fallen world?”
This is not an academic question. There is a tremendous amount
at stake: personally, how do we understand the gift of grace
given to us; corporately, how do we relate to those who stand
apart from us? This idea of “relating” gives us some insight
into Abraham’s actions in Genesis 18. Moses gives us a picture
of Abraham relating to the people of Sodom as a priest. Abraham,
in his conversation with God, is interceding for the people of
Sodom even though they have no idea that he is engaged in this
priestly activity on their behalf. This morning, we want to look
at three aspects of Abraham’s priestly identity: his
qualification as a priest, his intercession as a priest, and
finally his deficiency as a priest.
Abraham’s Priestly Qualification
What makes Abraham qualified to be a priest for Sodom, to
intercede for them before God? One of the first things we notice
in this passage is that Abraham relates to God as a friend. We
see it in the kind of language that God in verse 17: “shall I
hide from Abraham what I am about to do?” Why is God speaking
this way? Surely God hides all sorts of things from his people.
Why would he wonder if he should hide from Abraham those sorts
of things? Because Abraham is his friend. As God’s friend (a
term applied to Abraham in both Isaiah 41 and James 2), Abraham
shares in God’s work and plans. Even Jesus uses this sort of
language with the disciples: after calling them friends he goes
on to explain what the Father has in store for them. The friends
of God are privy to the plans of God. What we see in Genesis 18
is a picture of deep and intimate friendship between God and
Abraham. While this idea is certainly in vogue today (“Jesus is
my homeboy”), we need to understand that the sort of friendship
we see between God and Abraham is an uncomfortable friendship.
Like Aslan in C.S. Lewis’ Narnia series, God is good, but not
tame. Abraham has made friends with the lion. So, there is a
reverence to Abraham’s speech; there is a caution to Abraham’s
engagement with God. But that does not take away from the deep
and personal intimacy that exists between God and his
servant/friend.
Abraham’s friendship with God is transforming. This is not the
first time they have talked. Like any good friend, they have had
many conversations. These conversations have transformed Abraham
and Sarah: at the beginning of Abraham’s pilgrimage, God spoke
into and transformed his barren life and future into one of
fullness and blessing. Earlier in chapter 18, God said that he
“knows” Abraham and that knowledge is a sovereign choice that
brings Abraham into covenant with God, making Abraham and his
posterity responsible to live a life in keeping with their
relationship to God. In relationship to the Lord, Abraham must
practice righteousness, he must walk in the way of the Lord.
Abraham must also practice justice; he must relate to others as
the emissary of God’s coming kingdom.
At the center of Abraham’s friendship with God is the knowledge
that Abraham will have about God’s plans for the future. In the
first half of this chapter Abraham knows of God’s plans to
bless, the promise of a son. In the second half of the chapter,
Abraham knows of God’s plans to judge the city of Sodom.
The second thing that qualifies Abraham to be a priest for Sodom
before God is a right understanding of his own sin. Look at
verse 27, “behold I have undertaken to speak to the Lord; I am
who but dust and ashes.” The phrase “dust and ashes” is a sort
of shorthand expression in the Bible of repentance and sorrow
for sin. You remember all those stories in the Bible of people
covering themselves with dust and ashes so they could look the
way that the felt or knew themselves to be before God. Abraham
comes before God and says, “not only do I wear dust and ashes,
but I am dust and ashes; I personify repentance.” “Who am I to
even speak to God when I have so much sin for which I must
repent? There is no good thing in me to guarantee that you would
listen to me.” It is exactly this understanding of his sin, of
his position before the Lord that drove him to work before God
and intercede for Sodom. Consider the flipside: if Abraham had
thought himself worthy of standing before the Lord, would he
have interceded for Sodom? Of course not, because those sinners
over there need to get their act together: “if only they would
do what I have done to make myself right with God, then they to
could enjoy blessings instead of judgment.”
Abraham’s Priestly Intercession (23:44)
Abraham’s knowledge of his own unworthiness before God is what
makes him look not just inwardly at himself but also across the
valley to see these two cities, which God plans to judge. As a
man in covenant with God, Abraham is responsible to do
righteousness and justice before the Lord and for his neighbor.
This is the only place in Genesis that those two words are found
together; typically those words are used later in Israel’s
history, found in the mouths of the prophets who inveigh against
Israel for her failure to live up to her covenant
responsibilities. These two words are hallmarks of God’s
kingdom, characteristics of the sort of people who are ruled
over by God. They are signs of the kingdom’s presence in a
particular place and among a particular people. In some ways,
then, Abraham is functioning as a sort of one-man outpost of
God’s kingdom and God lays on him the responsibility to do
righteousness and justice among the people with whom he lives.
It is that concern for justice and righteousness, as well as his
friendship with God, that leads him into such a bold, though
reverent, conversation with God.
Do you see the picture that Moses paints for us in verse 22? The
other two men are sent down the hill to investigate Sodom. But
Abraham stands still before the Lord. God and Abraham are at the
top of a windswept cliff overlooking a valley that includes not
just Sodom and Gomorrah, but also the Dead Sea. Remember from
Genesis 13 that this valley was lush and green—Lot chose it when
he had to divide from Abraham because it reminded him of Egypt.
God invites him into this conversation; God asks Abraham a
question. He does not engage Abraham so that he might be
instructed nor to be bargained into acting mercifully. God does
not need to be convinced to act with grace. God accommodates
himself to Abraham so that Abraham might exercise that priestly
office whereby he will bless the world. Remember, this is part
of God’s promise to Abraham, part of Abraham’s calling in
Genesis 12, to be a blessing to the world. So far, that calling
has been a bit of a mixed bag. First he goes down into Egypt and
his presence leads to a curse on Pharaoh’s house. On the other
hand, his pairing with his neighbors in a war to recover Lot and
his family led to great riches for them. But his willingness to
use Hagar—his Egyptian slave-woman, the nations who slept in his
tent—for his own ends led not to her blessing but to abuse and
dismissal from the house.
Now, on the hills overlooking Sodom—an exceedingly wicked
city—Abraham intercedes with God for the inhabitants of the
city. To Abraham, it is inconceivable that God would destroy an
entire city without regard to the presence of the righteous
people who are within the city. But notice what he does. Abraham
does not plead with God to give the righteous a chance to
escape; he doesn’t ask for forty-eight hours to warn the
righteous. Abraham intercedes for this city as it is; he asks
that judgment might be withheld. Abraham pleads with God for
mercy, for grace in the face of divine judgment. How different
this is from the caricature that is too often true of
Christians—giddy with unholy joy at the misery of their
neighbors who lack the morality or beliefs that they think are
necessary. Too often, our concern is only for those who are like
us. Abraham has nothing in common with the people of Sodom; he
does not even plead with God for the city on the basis of his
nephew who lives there! Abraham’s concern is not just for the
righteous, but it is for the whole city and the effect that the
righteous might have in that city. This is the new math that
Abraham is using with God.
Abraham is not put off by the wickedness of Sodom, for he thinks
that the presence of God’s people within the city can make a
difference to the city. You and I are used of thinking in the
opposite direction: how can I withdraw from the corrupting
influences all around me so that I am not tarnished by contact
with them? How can I keep myself pure? In this way, modern
Christians are far more like the hypocritical Pharisees of
Jesus’ day than we are like Abraham. We gather our robes around
us fearful that as we walk through this society we will somehow
get dirty. But Abraham opens his heart to the people of Sodom,
confident that with the presence of God’s people, there can be
mercy and grace even for Sodom.
Abraham argues for a “great exchange”: the presence of the
righteous saves the wicked. The question is, how many righteous
people does it take? In almost comical fashion, Abraham starts
at fifty and through a series of apologies and protestations, he
works down to ten. Why fifty? Why ten? Commentators tell us that
fifty men would be about half the size of a small town in that
area around that time. And, later Judaism believed that true
corporate worship of God could not occur without at least ten
men. Abraham starts with a best-case scenario and works his way
down to a worst-case scenario: from a strong percentage of the
population down to the bare minimum for worship. And God replies
that even if there is just the bare minimum, he will not destroy
the city.
Abraham’s Priestly Deficiency
Was Abraham successful as a priest? I guess it depends on the
way you define success. He certainly did his part by interceding
for the city of Sodom. But he underestimated the wickedness of
the city and he overestimated the number of the righteous in the
city. At the end of the day, Abraham was powerless to turn aside
God’s judgment against the city. His priesthood like that of his
grandson, Levi, and the tribe of priests who were descended from
him, could not put away sin.
Abraham’s priesthood was deficient. He was on the right track
but his priestly intercession had no real power. He could not
put away sin, nor could he create righteousness. He could only
observe from the outside; he could not enter into Sodom’s
wickedness and emerge triumphant having transformed it by virtue
of his own righteousness. Abraham did what he was supposed to
do; he was not at fault. This is not one of those stories that
reveals Abraham’s faults. This is a story that celebrates
Abraham’s participation in the work of God. But Abraham’s
deficiencies cause you and me and the people of Sodom, frankly,
to long for a better priest who can triumph over even the worst
wickedness.
I told you at the beginning of this sermon that the main
question put forward by this text is can there be good news for
Sodom—for a city that isn’t looking for mercy, a city that is
blind to its own need, a city that seems hell-bent on its own
destruction. Can God’s grace extend even that far? Abraham
certainly thought it could and he appealed to God’s status as
the righteous Judge of all the earth. But, for those of you who
know the rest of the story, it appears from Scripture that even
Sodom is too far gone to receive any mercy from God, for in
chapter 19, God will destroy the city, saving only Lot, his
wife, and two daughters from the destruction. In light of the
reality of God’s judgment, should we assume that Abraham wasted
his time or that we would waste our time interceding and working
for the good of the world around us?
The reality of final judgment should not cause us to ignore
those around us or write them off as kindling for the fires of
God’s wrath (“it’s all gonna burn”). Such a way of thinking
doesn’t do justice to Abraham’s example, nor to the life and
ministry of Jesus Christ. We must work for the good of even
those who reject the mercy offered to them. The prospect of
God’s ultimate justice should encourage us in our pursuit of
“proximate” justice or justice in this world and for those who
suffer. But we must also be aware of our limited perception.
You and I are apt to think of God’s word of judgment as the
final word from God. And yet, as we have seen repeatedly in
Genesis that is not the case. The final word of judgment to Adam
and Eve is tempered by a promise of grace in the seed to come
who will crush the head of the serpent. The final word of
judgment against a humanity that had become exceedingly evil—so
much so that God is grieved to his heart—is tempered by an act
of grace whereby God rescues Noah and his family from the flood
of judgment. In Abraham’s case, final judgment is swallowed up
by God as he walks the bloody line of the covenant swearing that
if he does not fulfill his promises to Abraham, he himself will
undergo the curses illustrated by the animals cut in half.
For Sodom, final judgment in Genesis 19 wipes every trace of the
city off the map, but an outrageous promise of restoration is
made later in the Bible’s story of redemption. In Ezekiel 16,
the prophet is in the middle of a lawsuit against God’s people.
Jerusalem is personified as a prostitute, unfaithful wife, and
ugly older sister. Then he says something even more terrible,
“Israel, you people of God, your sin is so bad that Sodom looks
righteous compared to you!” Sodom and Gomorrah by this point in
history had become bywords of everything that was evil, of
everything that was anti-God. For Ezekiel to turn on the people
of God and say that not only are you worse than Sodom, but Sodom
actually looks more righteous than you, would have certainly got
their attention. Just as much, the prophet says, as Sodom was
removed by an act of God’s judgment so also Israel deserves the
same treatment. But in spite of that grim reality, God promises
something much grander and larger than they deserve. Ezekiel,
speaking for the Lord, says, “I will restore their fortunes,
both the fortunes of Sodom and her daughters and the fortunes of
Samaria and her daughters and I will restore your own fortunes
in their midst” (16:53). No longer a word of judgment but a word
of mercy and restoration.
What brings about this change from judgment to mercy? Ezekiel
goes on to speak of the covenant God made with Abraham to
swallow judgment and death himself. In verse 63 God makes this
astounding promise: the atonement for sins—an action he will
provide, which we know happens on the cross of Christ. Atonement
is not made for the righteous. It is made for wanton sinners,
and it is wide enough to include Sodom alongside Jerusalem.
What does this mean in real life, that Sodom’s fortunes will be
restored? Let me apply it to you: Judgment is never God’s final
word. Grace and restoration because of the promise God made to
Abraham will always win the day. And so we are always left with
a hope to remind one another of and direct others to: God will
deal kindly with us because of Christ, the seed of Abraham who
bears the judgment that we deserve. And as we preach that hope
to ourselves and share that hope with others, may it be the wind
that causes us to look with kindness, mercy, and grace on our
neighbors—be they even as wicked as Sodom—and work for their
good as we intercede on their behalf for God’s grace to
transform them into friends.
Rev. Eric Landry
Pastor
Christ
Presbyterian Church
Temecula, CA
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Preaching Christ: Audios
Revelation 7:9-12
Rev. Zach Keele, '03
Rev. Owen Y. Lee, '00
Genesis 18:16-33
Rev. Eric Landry, '03
Genesis 49:29
- 50:14
Rev. Stephen Lewis, '98
2 Kings 11
Rev. Stephen Donovan, '01
Job 1:13-22
Rev. Brian Vos, '97
Rev. Jason J. Stellman, '04
Isaiah 55:1-5
Rev. David Lee, '04
Rev. Zach Keele, '03
Mr. Christopher Sandoval, '05
Rev. Jeff Suhr, '02
Rev. Eric Landry, '03
John 14:1-3
Rev. James Lee, '02
Rev. Dale Van Dyke, '91
Romans 16
Rev. Danny Hyde, '00
Ephesians 1:13-14
Rev. Ryan Kron, '06
Rev. Michael G. Brown, '04
Jude 1-2
Rev. Danny Hyde, '00
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