CAST OUT THE BONDWOMAN, AND HER SON
GENESIS
21; GAL. 4:21-5:1
There
are times we find ourselves despondent. If we are not actually outcasts,
pariahs, alone, unwanted, vulnerable and without a future, we feel very much as
though we were.
Sometimes,
it's because of other people. Believers can
be cruel, just like lost people. When I look at Genesis 21, I see a whole
ugly lot of abuse going on. Ishmael
abuses Isaac, Sarah abuses Abraham (How many times do you think she said “cast
out this bondwoman and her son?” I would
stake my life on it being at least several), and Abraham appears to abuse Hagar
and Ishmael. From a human standpoint,
there is really nothing heroic or commendable in anything that we read.
Sometimes
– and I think this is more often the case - we are in bad shape just because of
ourselves. Christians can be stupid, self-destructive,
and our own worst enemies, just like lost people.
But
for whatever reason we find ourselves cast out, we aren’t out of God’s sight,
or His mind. We don't always know why
we’re put on a hard lonely path, but we do know that God is just, and His
purposes are perfect. So whatever may befall you, or others that may be
out there – people that you know about that you really can’t help - you can be
certain that God not only knows about it, but that He planned it for some
reason, which may be known only to Himself. That’s all been said before,
in Romans 8:28.
HISTORY
REPEATS ITSELF
I
think there is mutual responsibility here.
Hagar and Ishmael aren’t completely innocent. You might remember that before Isaac had been
born, Sarah had been mocked by Hagar.
The story is given in Gen. 16.
Sarah was so vindictive that Hagar decided to run away with her baby
while she was still carrying him. But
the LORD appeared to her, and told her to go back and start behaving herself.
So when
we’re wrestling with this story, we have to remember that Hagar had been out of
order herself, in the same way (the sins of the parents are usually mirrored in
the child) and had been chastened because of it. That was a pretty close call back there. She was almost a homeless refugee. But God sent her back to Abraham and Sarah,
with instructions to shut up and stand down.
Apparently, that’s what she did – on the outside at least.
Funny
thing though, our kids pick up on our spirit, and they aren’t as good as we are
at hiding things. Ishmael never had to see Hagar mock Sarah. He could read it in her. And Ishmael’s attitude toward Isaac was just
a Xerox copy of his Mom’s attitude toward Sarah. She should have stepped up and reigned in her
son, but she didn’t, or couldn’t. And
tensions came to a nasty level.
But
be that as it may, it still looks like the punishment is excessive compared to
the crime. Commentators try to justify Abraham’s
handling of the situation by pointing out that Hagar obtained her freedom hereby; food and water were available along the way;
without any expensive junk to haul around, they weren't likely to attract
attention; and that facing the world, and becoming a man,
was not the ruin of Ishamael, it was the making of him.
Another angle taken is to say that Abraham
portrays the parent who must take severe action against an incorrigible child
for the good of all concerned.
Those are pretty good, but imagine trying to explain this story to a
hostile unbeliever using those explanations.
We believe and love the Bible and can accept almost any explanation to a
problem text. But the skeptic hates it,
and will try to find a problem where there isn’t one. And I’ve gotta tell you that no matter how
you come at it, Abraham and Sarah wind up looking awfully petty and vindictive,
and Hagar and Ismael appear to be victims.
And the “Friend of God” and “Father of the Faithful”, who did not want
to take any action, comes out looking like a hen-pecked Caspar Milquetoast.
He basically had four options - possible
solutions to the problem:
-
Get rid of Isaac. Not gonna
happen
-
Keep both children. Have
perpetual conflict. Not a good
situation.
-
Try to effect some change over Ishmael. Also not gonna happen.
-
Get rid of Ishmael.
BUT, as harsh as his actions seem, Abraham
is acting according to the promise and command of God, by faith. And this is even more offensive to the
skeptic -
GOD HIMSELF GOES ALONG WITH IT
Now, as difficult as it may be to put
up with a woman that has her mind made up about something she wants done until
you’ve done what she wants, we don’t think of our God as being subject to
that. I have no doubt that Sarah is
systematically wearing Abraham down, but I contend that she’s not wearing God
down.
If I’m right about that, why in the
world would God go along with this? Is
there an answer to offer the skeptic? It’s one more reason to call God names – like
“bully” and “despot” – and to say; “I just can’t believe in a God who tells his
polygamous friends to turn some of their wives and children out into the street
just because they act human and don’t always get along with the favorite wife
and child.” “How can you say that the Bible
could be the so-called Word of God when it presents so-called God that tells
people to do such terrible things?
Well, of course there is, and I’m
pretty sure I know what it is – especially since it ties in to the gospel.
First of all,
because He’s going to take care of
Hagar and her son. He made that clear to Abraham. That may not sit well with the critic either,
but God, being real, and being personal, and Abraham knowing that very well, by
personal experience of revelation, would not have any trouble taking Him at His
word.
If you were in a similar situation –
if you had people living at your house that was causing a constant uproar, and
your family was in a constant state of bickering and conflict because of them –
you wouldn’t just turn them out into the street, now would you? I hardly think so.
But what if I came to you and said,
“I’ll take care of them, they will not be in any danger, and they will not want
for anything as long as they live”;
-
you
would believe that I existed and was
talking to you,
-
you
might believe my good intentions to
do as I had promised
-
but
you might not be convinced that I
could make good on my word
Abraham knew God “face-to-face”, and
therefore He had no doubts that
-
God
existed and was talking to him
-
God
would make good on His word
The unbeliever who doubts that God
exists and that He speaks, isn’t any more inclined to believe that if He does,
that He can be trusted to keep His Word.
But, of course, He does. He keeps His Word, and we have that Word on
our laps – at least most of us do. But
may I say to you, that since you and I do not hear an audible voice speaking to
us, we have to be very careful about lifting anything out of the Bible and
claiming it as “God spoke to me.” That’s
always iffy at best, and it can be very discouraging, even faith-destroying.
But what is clear, and to all, is to
be trusted implicitly. For example, the
gospel, the 2 great commandments, the instructions of the epistles. You don’t have to mine them out of their
context and “claim” them as God’s special promise just to you. They are addressed to some group – and if you
belong to that group, they are to you, prima facie.
Secondly,
and even more importantly, because
He’s going to bring this story out later to illustrate some spiritual lessons
that you and I need to understand – and the best way for us to understand most
things is with some kind of simile or metaphor or object lesson. Something that God can point to, and about
which He can say, “it’s like that!”
We’re coming to that, but not yet. I have to yet make a few more remarks about
the story as it happened.
Were it not for God’s promises, what
Abraham did (v.14) is nearly despicable.
But God had ordered it, and promised His protection and provision. The lunch Abraham packed for them was
sufficient for them to begin their journey.
“But they wandered in the
wilderness!”, someone objects. But was
the “wandering in the wilderness” unnecessary?
Should she have headed someplace on purpose, someplace she was told to
go, but refused? I’m not sure. But it wasn’t long before they ran out of
provisions. And then, desperation
overcame her.
As usual, it was at that point that God stepped in. He heard their voices. She had met Him before, and would not have
forgotten his voice. He came with
promises, and with provisions, and He did as He had promised.
So, that’s the story, and a few
remarks about it. But what’s is it
really all about? Some of you can
guess. Most of the rest of you will slap
your head and say, “I should have guessed”.
It’s about LAW and GOSPEL.
What else would you have come to expect around here? More specifically, it’s about the old man
and the new man. But those are
law/gospel categories.
There are numerous and important
types in this story. Four people relate to Abraham (who represents the
believer – i.e. you and I), each in
a different way
-
Hagar represents law
and works. Her son
-
Ishmael represents
what the Bible calls “the flesh” (Men have invented other terms for it, such as
“the old nature” or “the sin nature”, and even “original sin”, which I’ve come
to prefer over the others). He was born
a slave, born of the flesh.
-
Sarah represents grace
and faith, her son
-
Isaac, born
supernaturally, and free, represents
the new nature.
You cannot have the wives nor their
sons combined without having constant turbulence and disorder. Who is going to be thrown out?
According to Romans 7:18-23, we
have, in ourselves, the same situation.
Isaac was to Abraham’s household
what the new birth, and the implantation of the new nature is to those that are
saved. It’s the start of a war. The bad news is that the war will be on for
some time – probably quite a long time.
But the good news is that the hope and the future were not to be found
in Ishmael changed, but in Isaac born.
When you were born-again, it wasn’t
a change in the old nature. You didn’t
suddenly get an infusion of “godly character”.
You got a new man, a new life, and that life is Christ (Col. 3:4). And the old man can’t be changed. It continues to be what it was, and is made
in no respect better by Justification, or
Sanctification. On the contrary, it
seems to want to assert itself even more strongly in opposition to the new man.
Ga 5:17 For the flesh lusteth
against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh: and these are contrary
the one to the other: so that ye cannot do the things that ye would.
You may be able to control it with a
rod or a rule, you may be able to dress it up and make it look cultured and
refined and put it on display, but isn’t changed. Not even a little at a time. Not even a little at all. That’s why we’re commanded to
Eph 4:22 …put off concerning the
former conversation the old man, which is corrupt according to the deceitful
lusts;
Here’s the only remedy – put off, or
cast out anything that any religious person trying to work his way to heaven
might look to as the means to earn it. The
spiritual truth of the gospel that God is allowing all this mess to happen in order to illustrate. The crooked can’t be made straight. All attempts at improving the flesh are
futile.
The error in Galatia was thinking
that if they added some law to the gospel, they would come out ahead. “Except ye be circumcised…” Or in Keswick-speak, or Wesleyan speak, or
Holiness Perfectionism speech, “There must be something we can do to ourselves outwardly
that will help our sanctification. Maybe
even something irreversible.” If you
take pride in all the outward things you do that you think make you more
righteous, especially the ones that hurt, let me ask you – do they hurt as much
as circumcision would have, do you think maybe?
The trouble with that outward stuff is
that it takes the eye off of Christ and places it on something else as a means to God. There is no other. Whatever you think is getting you closer to
God, if it isn’t Christ, it’s another way, and you’ve put yourself in the
position of climbing up like a thief or a robber.
So, Isaac must be cast out, along
with his mother. The old man must be put
off and the new man put on. But this
leaves the flesh nothing in which to glory. If Ishmael could be improved, and become more
like Isaac, he would have something in which to glory. But instead, the ugliness of his disposition
became more glaringly apparent every day as Isaac grew.
THIS
IS WHAT GALATIANS 4:21-5:1 is talking about
I think one of the reasons God
allows this whole ugly episode is to exemplify, not just law vs. gospel, and
Sinai vs. Calvary, but also, and very marvelously, to how distasteful the idea
will be to us to get rid of the things that Hagar and Ishmael represent for you
and I – i.e., Sinai and bondage. “How
could he do that?” is exactly how we react to the idea that our rules and
standards and lists aren’t of any use toward real Christian sanctification.
It couldn’t be clearer, and it
couldn’t be harder for self-righteous American Evangelicals such as us to
swallow. Believe me, I’m as inclined
toward getting this backward as anyone.
But despite all of our natural thinking, the way to continue and grow as
a Christian is not to get closer to
Sinai and bondage but to get rid of it.
Because, as someone said,
The old nature
knows no law, and the new nature needs no law"
I say it kindly, and
sympathetically, but you are never going to understand what Paul is saying in
Gal. 4:21-5:1 if you cannot allow for the “counter-intuitive implausibility” of
it. I couldn’t – not for a very long
time.
If you understand what Paul is
saying, your first reaction is to say, “Paul, what have you been
smoking?”. If you don’t get what Paul is
saying, and you do get what I’m saying, you’re going to be asking me the same
thing. I know some of you have never
heard this in your lifetime. You’ve been
in bondage your whole life to, “This is what Christians do – now go out and do
it”, as though you had any ability to do it.
And if what I’m saying makes no sense to you, let me try and explain
what will have to happen first.
You’ll hunt the elusive “victorious
life” for years, maybe decades, but eventually you’ll end up just hungry for a
spirituality of stillness, contentment and acceptance instead of spiritual
competition and wretched urgency. You’ll
eventually get sick and tired of being challenged to do more and feel more and
surrender more and to finally
rededicate that one wonderful time in such a way that’s going to finally fix
the mess that is you.
Eventually you’ll catch on that you
are never in this world going to be anything more than merely human, and that
to be merely human means that you can be a “Christian” but that you can never
measure up to the myth of the “good” Christian that you’ve heard about in
Church your whole life. You’ll come to
grips with the fact that you can neverlive the victorious Christian life the
way it’s been preached to you.
You’ll get fed up trying to act more
holy, and long to just pray. By that, I
mean, to come to God in a way that isn’t a means to accomplish or obtain
something, work a miracle or impress somebody, but just to humbly kneel before
your Creator, confess your sins, receive forgiveness, plead for grace and daily
bread, intercede for others, and then go in peace; to get off the treadmill,
and to lie down in green pastures, after having drunk from still waters, and
have your soul restored, and not expect anything in the way of material
blessing for having done so.
You’ll come to understand that you
cannot even pray the way I just described without sin finding its way into the
event.
And then you’ll give up, or you’ll finally
understand why God brought this allegory to pass, and put it in the Bible, and
why Paul cited and applied it the way he did.
You’ll be desperate to understand (in the words of Michal Spencer) “the
real spirituality of those whose religion does not make them argumentative,
vengeful, belligerent, or bigoted, but makes them beautiful servants of
peace.” And to hope for and pursue a
simple spirituality that lifts up, instead of beating down, and doesn’t require
any liver shivers to in order to know that God is there, and that He has
forgiven you once again.
You’ll understand just how silly and
pointless it was to ever think that your rituals, your cuttings, your
meticulous measurements of mint, anise and cumin was ever demanded from you of
God. Hopefully, you’ll learn what it
means to be spiritual, and be forever done with trying to show anyone else how
spiritual you are.
And after recognizing the havoc that
you’ve wreaked after years of hypocrisy and self-delusion, and catch on to the
height, and depth, and width and breadth of the mess that is you, you still might
be content to defend yourself and pretend to be greater, godlier, and stronger
than all the lesser saints, and then you’ll just dry up a little more and
become even more critical and frustrated than you are already.
But you might just tire of the
bickering and bloody conflict, and you’ll do just what Abraham did in this
little allegory. You’ll cast out the
bondwoman and her son too.
