On being the wrong boy.
The Third Sunday after Pentecost
Proper
7 – Year A
Genesis
21:8-21
God was with the boy, and he
grew up…

You
could reproach Abraham for not being able to stand up to his wife and protect
the fruit of his loins. You might even
wonder that God seems to play along with Sarah in her need to throw out her
competitor. The Old Testament stories
are such a mish-mash of human drama and Salvation History. We’d do well not to divide them up. They are what they are.
God
has good peripheral vision. He hears
Hagar’s weeping and the cries of the boy sheltering in the low vegetation.
He
hears the mother.
He
sees the boy.
He
abides with him as he grows up.
God
looks sideways. There is grace beyond
the bounds and this grace-which-leaps-over-borders will find itself being
worked out in the ministry of Jesus. He
started with his own but he did not end there. His commission to the saints at
the end of the gospels is to take the message – that grace - to all nations. It’s this sideways glance and overflowing
grace which Saint Paul will take with him to Antioch and to a ministry which
extends beyond the chosen sons and daughters and out to the Gentiles and, through
those saints, to parts of the world which were unknown.
That was a long time ago. There is current hope in this passage for you as well who may, for any number of reasons, be outside the well-lit room and the appointed path - who must look for hope beyond the ruins of your family lives and beyond your disappointing personal histories. You might easily list off the reasons you don’t belong in Abraham’s tent.
Cry
out.
Make your claim for God’s love in spite of being the “wrong boy”.
It’s the way it should be.
It’s the way it’s always been.
Make your claim for God’s love in spite of being the “wrong boy”.
It’s the way it should be.
It’s the way it’s always been.