Stephen
Terry, Director
Children of the Promise
Commentary
for the May 1, 2021 Sabbath School Lesson
"If you belong to
Christ, then you are Abraham's seed, and heirs according to the promise."
Galatians 3:29, NIV
When we read about the
Patriarchal Period portrayed in Genesis as an introduction to the life of Moses
in Exodus, we discover chiastic structures that reveal the interdependency between
the two narratives. Abram left Harran in Mesopotamia to live in the Promised Land,
Canaan. But although the land was promised to him and his descendants, they
ended up living in Egypt for four centuries. Abram did not see the promise
fulfilled. Neither did Isaac, Jacob, nor any of Jacob's sons. But while Abram's
time saw the descent into Egypt and eventual enslavement, with the birth of
Moses began the reversal of all of that. Moses was called to lead the people
out of Egypt and to take possession of the land that was promised to Abram. But
in a reversal of what Abram experienced by being allowed to dwell in Canaan,
Moses was not allowed to enter. He was only allowed to view it from afar from
Mount Nebo at the end of his life. Abram was type and Moses' life was the antitypical
fulfillment of that earlier promise.
Taken as a whole, this
chiastic story is type for the antitypical deliverance to come later through
Jesus. The importance of the completion of the Patriarchal Cycle with Moses can
be seen in the gospel account of the Mount of Transfiguration where it is Moses
and not Abraham who appears with Christ. While some have felt that Moses
appeared there as a representative of those who die and are resurrected, and
Elijah was there to stand for those who are translated without seeing death,
that still emphasizes the significance of Moses over Abraham. Jesus portrayed
Lazarus as enjoying the afterlife with Abraham in Luke, chapter 16. By doing
so, he portrayed Abraham as standing for those resurrected for a heavenly
afterlife which counters the idea that Moses was the representative of those
resurrected.
The significance of
all of this is the sweeping narrative of the Bible is filled with purpose that
transcends the simple stories we learned in children's Bible classes. Their simplicity
made them easy to grasp on a superficial level and they thrilled our hearts
when we heard them. But like with Christ's parable about the sower of seed,
some of the seed that was sown in our early years fell on hearts that were soon
distracted by other things, and like Jackie Paper in the song "Puff, the Magic
Dragon," the things of childhood were set aside. Written in a minor scale, the
song leads the listener to understand that the loss of those childhood things
is lamentable. Jesus' parable leads us to believe that those whose seed
did not take hold are in a sad state as well. Whether we chased after other
things that caught our fancy or did not dig deeper that our roots might reach life-sustaining
water, the result is the same. We no longer thrilled at those stories like
before. Perhaps because of their simplicity we strained too hard at the metaphors
and substituted a literal understanding for a figurative one. When we did so,
the structure seemed to crumble under our gaze and lost relevance within our grown-up
world.
Nonetheless, some dug
deeper, looking for that artesian source of understanding. They began to see
structure and purpose that went beyond those simple tales, linking them to something
greater than what they at first appeared to be. Metaphors began to sprout from
the fertile soil of scripture, and the stories began to connect in ways that hid
themselves from our earlier, childhood gaze. For instance, as a child we read
of the feeding of the five thousand and marvel at the miracle. As an adult, we
ask, "Why doesn't God feed the starving in the world, today?" And we walk away,
turning our backs on such an uncaring God. But when we do, we do not realize
that God could ask us the very same question. He showed us through that
metaphor what a Christian should be doing in terms of serving the needs of others.
But instead, denying the miracle he created in each of us, we turn away in
disgust, willing to blame God, but refusing to acknowledge our own complicity in
the failure to care. What is the result? We become more willing to bomb entire
civilizations into poverty, famine, and disease than to lift them out of those horrors.
We have not made the world a better place for all by setting aside the plough
shares and pruning hooks for swords and spears. Some may point to the conquest
of Canaan under Joshua as an example of adult faith and try thereby to justify
modern conquest and destruction, but in doing so they overlook that God's original
plan would have driven the people from Canaan with hornets, not bloody battles.[i]
The church has struggled
with immature lusting for power and possessions and those who, even in holy
orders, use ungodly means to carry out such selfish ends. While preaching
eternal life, we make life such a hell on earth that some might say, "No,
thanks! I am not interested in eternal life. I have seen enough of what life
means to those in the church." Superficially, it is hard to argue against that
logic, except that some have dug deeper and have sought nourishment from the
well spring that Jesus offered.[ii] Not only does that well
bring us to eternal life, but it changes those who choose to drink there as
opposed to elsewhere. Their life here and now begins to change, and they are
seen to be like Abraham, sojourners, looking for the promise in hope of its
fulfillment. But Abraham never took possession of the land as promised. Moses
could not bring the people into the Promised Land. Even we, today, cannot have
the promise no matter how much we may change in this life. We are often more like
Moses, even after 40 years of service in the wilderness, stumbling on the very
border of Canaan.
Unlike Abraham and
Moses, there is one who can take us into fulfillment of that promise. The one
who led the people into Canaan was Joshua. When we dig into scripture, we
discover that Joshua was Jesus' name in Hebrew. Jesus was the Greek form of his
name. Joshua was the type that led the people into the Promised Land, but Jesus
is the antitype, leading us to something even better. Where Joshua had no power to change people's hearts despite
every effort to convince them, Jesus can change us completely. He can replace our
hard hearts with hearts of empathetic flesh.[iii] But that is only the
beginning. Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God.[iv] For this reason, Paul tells
us that even our body will be different when Christ comes to take us home. We
can be assured that eternal life will be nothing like life as we experience it
here and now. How pitiful and nonsensical will our treatment of one another now
appear then. Should we be fortunate enough to find ourselves there, will we
hang our heads in shame before others who have made it to heaven, remembering
how we treated them in this life? If even briefly, we feel such shame, they
will be as ready to forgive us as God is. God, himself, will wipe the tears
from our eyes and the shame and disgrace will become a thing of the past.[v]
Some might think that
eternity is a never-ending church service with the pastor droning on while
sleepy eyelids fight hard to stay open. Others might think of it as a long list
of things we are not allowed to enjoy, and we all wear black to go with our
somber expressions. Far from it. Think of some of the most beautiful moments
you have experienced. Those were rays of joy streaming through the gloom of
this troubled earth to remind us this is not all there is. "...his favor lasts a
lifetime; weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning."
(Psalm 30:5)
The one who gives us
this promise does not belong to Abraham, Moses, Joshua, the Jews, or anyone exclusively.
This is the God of all creation. No one is left out. As Jesus said to the
religious leaders of his day, God can raise up descendants of Abraham from the
rocks. Being a child of Abraham confers no special status beyond that of a
stone. But seeking God, digging deeply for that wellspring of living water and
drinking continually from it will make a profound difference. We must not allow
the rocks standing in our path to cause us to stumble. They are deaf and blind
to even find their own path. They are not the way to truth. Only Christ can
light that path for us and keep us from stumbling[vi] over those who would hinder
us. Won't you choose to move toward that light, today?