“The LORD told Abram ‘GO’… And Abram went.”

Beloved of God,

Summertime has always been, for me, a time when I look forward to traveling; a time for entering new spaces and rhythms in family and congregational life; a time for visiting new and familiar landscapes and coming home renewed.   Last year at this time our family was re-entering life in the Northwest after having been on sabbatical.  We’ve been playing the “where were we a year ago?” game for the past four months, and it’s enabled us to recapture some of the experiences we shared along the way and to keep alive the prospect of returning “someday” to places and people we came to cherish along the way.

When God issues the call to Abram to leave everything he’s known—country, hometown, family—and to go to a new place that God will show him, God promises Abram that through him “all the families of the earth will be blessed.” (Gen. 12:3)  In response to this call, “Abram went.”  Historian Thomas Cahill calls these two words “two of the boldest words in all literature” for they signal a complete departure form everything that has gone before in the long evolution of culture and sensibility.  “Out of ancient humanity,” writes Cahill “comes a party traveling by no known compass.  Out of the human race…comes a leader who says he has been given an impossible promise. Out of mortal imagination comes a dream of something new, something better, something yet to happen, something—in the future.”[1]  What’s being midwifed in this encounter, according to Cahill, as a whole new concept—the concept that what lies ahead us could be different from what we’ve known before; the concept of FUTURE.

These days we take the FUTURE for granted. That is, we take the idea that tomorrow could be different than today —and different in significant ways and better ways—for granted.  The recent Great Recession, the acceleration of Climate change, and the continuing specter of terrorism may have put a chink in that armor, but by and large we (at least I) carry in my head the notion that the future is not predetermined or just a rerun of the past, but can be different; that I can change, that circumstances can improve, that the world can be better. 

Theologically speaking, Lutherans have held a dim view of the human capacity to change.  The mystery of the cross lies at the very heart of our way of seeing God at work in the world, suffering and dying and coming face to face with all that is wrong with human existence.  “We are in bondage to sin and cannot free ourselves,” we confess!  Yet Christ’s crucifixion is not the final act or word.  God’s final word is RESURRECTION, and it is not only a word, it is an ACT as well as a PROMISE.  What drives my conviction that my future and the world’s future can be different is my faith in the resurrection of Jesus.  On Easter morning we learn that God has something more planned for us and this world than a trajectory that ends in the graveyard.  We have a future “hidden in God,” a “better country” to look forward to; one that begins now and will reach its full embodiment when God deems it time.  Our job is to trust that truth and to live into it.  This resurrection faith gets affirmed in profound ways when I have the privilege of accompanying people of faith as they prepare to cross from this life to the next.

As I write to you, the recent death of our brother in Christ Al Drackert on June 29th is fresh in my mind.  When I last saw Al at his apartment at Daystar the day before he died, he was lying in his bed.  As I leaned over him he looked up at me, opened his eyes, smiled his crooked smile, and said, “Thanks for everything, Pastor.”  Oh, thank YOU, Al.  Later, when Chris arrived with her flute, we sang some of his favorite hymns with the members of his family who were present, and Al hummed along, chiming in “that’s a good one.”  At the edge of death Al was praising and thanking God.

Al knew the meaning of gratitude and found a way to express it on a daily basis.  One of his favorite phrases was “gracious living.”  Whether he was with his friend Bob Gains delivering Meals on Wheels, or passing the peace in worship, or reflecting on life from a hospital bed, he always steered back to that place.  His inner compass was locked on Grace, and because of that his eyes were opened to see blessings blossom all around.  “I am amazed” he would say.   As he prepared to make his final journey from this life to the next, Al seemed fully prepared to relinquish what he’d known here and to place his life with trust in the arms of the God of resurrection, the God who holds the future.  Blessed to be a blessing.

We are all blessed to be a blessing.  God’s promise to Abram is still being worked out in the lives of people of faith across the globe, in your life and mine, as we journey through this life.  Wherever our journeys take us this summer, whether near or far, we all will be given myriad opportunities to bless those we encounter; to pass God’s grace and blessing on. 

Via con Dios – Go with God!

Pastor Erik