“God Hears” (Genesis 21:8-21)

Approximately 70 to 80 miles southwest of Joliet, between Powell and Cody, is the site of one of the Japanese interment camps from the second world war.  Heart Mountain housed over 11 thousand people of Japanese ancestry who were gathered up by the government after the bombing of Pearl Harbor.  They were gathered for the safety of the nation going to war against Japan.  Those people were gathered up and sent to detainment centers and then eventually internment camps across the country.  They lost their homes, businesses, farms, and ranches . . . everything just because they were Japanese. It did not matter that most of them were citizens of the United States.  It was for the security and good of the nation’s safety that they were put away.

 

Despite most of them being citizens with constitutional rights that were blatantly ignored, they were picked up and hauled to places far from their homes.  Imagine how they felt . . . was anybody listening?

 

Approximately 90 miles to the east of Joliet sits Crow Agency, the headquarters of the Crow Nation tribal land . . . which most of us refer to as the reservation.  This is the final resting place of the Crow nation after hundreds of years of surviving the westward movement of the United States.  This is the land that they were given for having survived what many call genocide again Native American people . . . surviving their land being taken, their food sources being destroyed, white people’s diseases, battles and wars, boarding schools, and numerous attempts by the federal government to wipe out the indigenous completely.

 

Reservations across the country have the highest rates of poverty, unemployment, hunger, drug abuse, and missing people.  They were gathered up, thrown onto reservations, and hoped that they would disappear.  Their life and culture destroyed.  There are seven reservations in the state of Montana on which there are twelve recognized Montana tribes . . . and one tribe without a reservation—the Little Shell Chippewa.  Imagine how they must have felt and how they feel . . . was anybody listening?

 

These are two sites within our area that serve as reminders of people being thrown out . . . being removed . . . of being thrown out of the picture.  Our scripture reading this morning is such a story.  It is the story of Hagar and Ishmael.  Prior to last week’s story of the miraculous birth of Isaac, Abraham and Sarah struggled to have children, especially a son.  God had even promised the two of them that they would have a child . . . but they laughed.  With Sarah remaining barren, they took matters into their own hands.  Sarah insisted that Abraham father a child with her slave Hagar . . . in which he did.  The sight of the pregnant Hagar upset Sarah who banishes the pregnant woman to the desert.  In the desert Hagar encounters God who then promises the same thing as Abraham had been given . . . God would make her descendants “too numerous to count.”  So, she returns.  That tryst produced a son named Ishmael.

 

Flash forward about fifteen years to our story this morning.  The birth of Isaac tears open the old wounds of resentment and jealousy within Sarah towards Hagar and Ishmael.  Again, she insists that the two be removed from the camp . . . kicked out . . . driven out . . . forgotten.  Thus, they are banished and moved to the desert where they run out of water and food.  The heat is unbearable.  Hagar knows that her child is dying.

 

Imagine how she must have felt . . . banished, hated, despised . . . did anyone care?  Was anyone listening?   

 

Theodor Seuss Geisel, better known as Dr. Suess, started his career as an illustrator and cartoonist for various magazines and advertising firms.  He was also a political cartoonist.  Eventually he wandered over into the world of children’s books in which he wrote over 60 books.  When the second world war broke out with the bombing of Pearl Harbor, he was like a lot of Americans . . . he harbored very strong anti-Japan sentiments.  He had no difficulty in wanting to see all those of Japanese ancestry gathered up and placed in internment camps even though the majority of those people were American citizens.

 

Then he had a change of understanding and heart.  After the war he visited post-war Japan and witnessed the devastation of the war and nuclear bombs on the people, the land, and their culture.  He realized the great wrong that was done to those Americans who had been of Japanese descent.  He realized the prevalent attitude of the nation and world of not caring . . . after all, they were the winners and the Japanese were the losers.  He wondered if anyone was listening.

 

Horton Hears a Who is the book that came about from that experience in his life.  It is the story of Horton the Elephant and his efforts to protect the people of Whoville from annihilation from the world around them.  Whoville is a microscopic community filled with microscopic people that are so small no one can see them . . . they can barely hear them.  But Horton does.  Realizing the life that is there Horton swears that he will protect as he proclaims, “A person is a person, no matter how small.”

 

Horton hears them.  Horton acknowledges them.  Horton then protects them.  Horton hears.

 

The story of Hagar and Ishmael is a story of those who are thrown out for whatever reason people come up.  In their case it was the threat they represented to Sarah, Abraham, and Isaac . . . the lost of God’s promise.  The solution . . . remove them, throw them away . . . out of sight, out of mind.  In this case, death seems like a good means of solving the problem.  But Hagar and Ishmael only stand as the metaphor for all those people and groups of people across the ages and across the world that no one wants . . . or they were standing in the way of something that others wanted.

 

The Native Americans . . . the Japanese at the start of the second world war . . . those are two examples just down the road from where we live.  It is hard to ignore their stories.  But they are not the only ones . . . they are the tip of the iceberg. What lies below the water?  I imagine that we could all name groups of people that would fit into this category . . . those removed . . . those banished . . . those on the outside . . . those forgotten.

 

Where do we want to start . . . with those who have disabilities . . . to those who are poor . . . to those who are of a different race or culture . . . to those who are elderly . . . those who are hungry . . . those of different faiths and religions . . . those in prison . . . those who are naked . . . those who are the least of these?  Who else?

 

Who hears the cry of these people?

 

God does.  At least that is what we learn from the story of Hagar and Ishmael.  One of the coolest things about this story is the name of Ishmael.  Ishmael’s name means “God hears” in Hebrew. 

 

God heard the boy crying, and the angel of God called to Hagar from heaven and said to her, “What is the matter, Hagar? Do not be afraid; God has heard the boy crying as he lies there. Lift the boy up and take him by the hand, for I will make him into a great nation.” Then God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water. So she went and filled the skin with water and gave the boy a drink. God was with the boy as he grew up.  

 

And a great nation was born . . . Islam, cousin to Jews and Christians as all three trace their ancestry to Abraham.  Ishmael bears a name that signals a promise to all.  God is not deaf, dumb, or blind.  God is not implacable, impersonal, or impassible, without feeling or emotion.  God is not an absent landlord deity.  As the followers of Jesus we believe that God sees every human misery, and that God hears every painful sob.  God is with us . . . always with us.

 

God hears . . . and cares.  Ask Hagar.  Ask Ishmael.  They will tell you.  It was true then and it is true today.  Amen.

 

“The Holiness of Laughter” (Genesis 18:1-15, 21:1-7)

This past week it was reported that actor Al Pacino became a father at the age of 83.  Pacino and his girlfriend—age 29—had a boy.  Actor Robert DeNiro, Pacino’s long-time friend, said, “Go Al, God bless him” at the news of the birth.  DeNiro, age 79, gave birth to his seventh child earlier this year.  As I heard this story about these two elderly gentlemen becoming parents at such old ages my only thoughts were . . . “Are they crazy!”  I remember those parenting years that took place when I was much younger . . . I survived and I sure don’t have a hankering to do them again.  That is the great thing about being a grandparent . . . I get the kids, but they go home to their parents at the end of the day! 

I imagine there were quite a few jokes thrown around at their expense.  Of course, we should note that their partners in these birth stories were much younger than they were.  In our society . . . in most societies if not all . . . it is unusual for a geriatric person to be having children.  The geriatric designation comes when a person hits 65 years of age.  I am a geriatric!  I became one this year.  And the mere thought of having a child at my age not only makes me shudder, but it makes me laugh.  It makes me laugh in disbelief.  It makes me laugh in nervousness.  Nervousness because apparently it can happen . . . ask Pacino and DeNiro, or even Sarah from our scripture reading this morning.

 

In our reading this morning we hear the story of Isaac.  We hear how three strangers show up at Abraham’s camp.  Through the hospitality they are given they tell Abraham that his wife would become pregnant and that within a year there would be a child born.  In fact, it would be a boy.  Though Sarah is not present among the men as they are talking, she overhears the conversation.  Upon hearing the declaration of her impending pregnancy . . . she laughs.  She laughs because she is old . . . geriatric . . . beyond the childbearing years.  In her mind it is impossible.  Unfortunately, God hears her laughter.

 

Of course, God wants to know why Sarah laughed.  Embarrassed and scared, she lies.  Her response to God is, “I did not laugh.”  God’s response was just as blunt with its condemnation, “Yes, you did laugh.”  In the end, I am not sure who got the last laugh . . . Sarah or God.  After all, who really wants a child at a ripe old age?

 

Have you ever been caught in a laugh when someone said something to you?  And, when confronted about your laughter, what did you say?  I know that when I have let loose with inappropriate laughter that my response is typically, “I wasn’t laughing at you . . . I was just laughing.”  Which we know is not the truth.  Yeah, we were laughing . . . usually laughing in disbelief . . . laughing in nervousness.  Had we been Sarah, we would have laughed.  But let us not forget that Sarah was not the only one who laughed at such news, Abraham did too.

 

The disbelief comes in what is perceived as something that is impossible.  In her old age, Sarah did not think that it was conceivable to give birth to a child.  It was sort of one of those, “Yeah, right” sorts of laughs.  But it was also a laugh of nervousness . . . what if it did happen?  What if she did end up getting pregnant and having a child at her old age.  Would she be up to it?  Could she, do it?  My grandchildren wear me out in a day . . . Sarah was getting this kid until he reached adulthood.  I don’t blame her for laughing.  We all would laugh.

 

Thus, it came to be . . . Sarah gave birth to a son.  She named the child Isaac.  Did you know that Isaac means “laughter” in Hebrew?  It was a tribute to God and the miracle they experienced through God’s promise.  Sarah says: “God has brought me laughter, and everyone who hears about this will laugh with me.  Who would have said to Abraham that Sarah would nurse children? Yet I have borne him a son in his old age.” 

 

From laughing at God to laughing with God.  That is the story of Abraham, Sarah, and Isaac.  It is holy laughter.  Laughter born out of experience. It is acknowledgement of the Holy despite the odds against it.  It is belief in the face of disbelief.  God comes through and makes Abraham a father at the age of 100 . . . leaves Pacino and DeNiro in the dust.  Together God and the couple laugh and seal the deal.

 

Whether we want to admit it or not, I imagine we all have laughed at God.  In elementary school I was given the traditional assignment of writing a paper about what I wanted to be when I grew up.  We had to list three choices.  First choice was to be in the Air Force like my father.  It was one that he discouraged.  Second was to be a special education teacher.  I received a bachelor’s degree in speech pathology and special education, but I never became a teacher because I ended up doing the third choice . . . a minister.  I went from college to seminary to become an ordained minister.

 

Now I want you to understand something.  That third choice was out of the blue.  As I was writing that paper, I could not think of a third choice of what I wanted to be when I grew up.  Finally, my mother said to just put down the first thing that came to my mind.  Where “minister” came from God only knows because we were not even a church going family.  Everyone in the family had a good laugh at that one.  So did my friends as I got older.  My life was not of the ministerial quality one would expect . . . so there was a lot of laughter and surprise when I headed off to seminary.  I think that my seminary professors laughed.  Shoot, all the way through it all I still could not believe the route I was taking.  Even after I was ordained, I made fun of it . . . laughed at it, telling people that they could just call me the irreverent reverend.

 

But look at where I am now.  This past April I celebrated my 40^th year as an ordained minister.  God and I both smile at the journey its been . . . God probably laughs harder because God won in the end.  I still laugh because I can’t believe I have spent my life doing this.  Holy laughter.

 

Stuart Long.  Recognize the name?  Stuart Ignatius Long was from Helena, Montana.  He lived a life far from pristine in holiness, but he ended up being a priest.  He lived a pretty rowdy life into adulthood.  He played football at Carroll College, graduated with a degree in English literature and writing, and had a boxing career.  A pretty successful one at that, having won the state golden gloves title in 1985 and was runner-up in 1986.  Then he was involved in a horrific motorcycle accident that nearly killed him.  It changed his life as he had a religious conversion.

 

Having recovered from the accident he met a young woman that he fell in love with, but who refused to marry him unless he converted to Catholicism.  Which he did . . . but, he felt a call to the priesthood . . . felt that God was calling him to serve.  Of course, everyone laughed . . . his family laughed . . . his friends laughed . . . even the religious of the church laughed.  But his girlfriend encouraged him despite the laughter and the loss of matrimony.  While attending seminary he discovered he had a rare progressive muscle disorder much like Lou Gehrig’s disease.  But he pushed on.

 

He was eventually ordained despite the disability quickly changing his life.  His first parish was at the Little Flower Parish on the Blackfeet Reservation in Browning where he was much loved.  As the disease progressed, he was moved back to Helena and placed in a nursing home relying on the help of others to continue his ministry.  When it became too much the people came to him.  He died in 2014 in that Helena nursing home . . . much loved by the many he had touched.  His life story was made into a movie, Father Stu, that premiered in 2022.  Mark Wahlberg played him, and Mel Gibson played his father.

 

Despite the laughter . . . God’s will came through.  In the end it was holy laughter.

 

God may ask of each of us to do and be things that we find impossible or unbelievable . . . things that might be difficult . . . things that we never imagined for ourselves.  Things that make us laugh in nervousness and disbelief.  Yet, we need to pause in that moment of laughter and ask ourselves . . . why?  Why are we laughing?  Is it because it seems ridiculous or because it could really happen . . . after all, with God all things are possible.  In that moment we might discover that we are in the midst of holy laughter.

 

Yes, we may laugh at God . . . but the key to it all is to laugh with God.  Sarah and Abraham discovered and recognized this in the birth of their son . . . that all things are possible.  To acknowledge this realization they named their son Isaac . . . to laugh.  To laugh with God.  There is no better laughter than that of God and God’s children laughing together.  It is holy.  Amen.