Genesis 17:1-27 · The Covenant of Circumcision
An Old Plan For New People
Genesis 17:1-27
Sermon
by Larry Powell
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A mother dashed hurriedly into the nursery when she heard her five-year-old son howling. Much to her relief, she learned that his outburst resulted because his baby sister had been pulling his hair. "Never mind, darling," she comforted, "your little sister doesn’t know it hurts you when she pulls your hair." Within moments, the mother rushed back into the nursery, this time to check on the screaming baby girl. "What’s the matter with baby sister?" she anxiously asked the little boy. "Nothing much," he calmly replied, "except now she knows." Not all learning experiences are pleasant.

Some time ago, seven members of the pastor’s confirmation class, grades 6-9, listened attentively as I concluded the six-week study. Confident that the broad sweep of Christian essentials had been thoroughly covered - Baptism, Communion, church history, doctrines, and the meaning of church membership - I raised a final question: "When was the birthday of the church?" One youth wrinkled his brow, assumed the expression which comes only to those who ponder the great mysteries, and asked for clarification, "Do you mean this particular church?" Apparently, I had not made myself clear. "No, I mean the first church ever." "Wow," declared one of the other children, "that must go back at least as far as The Little House on the Prairie." Clearly, a review was in order. Some things are not absorbed immediately. Some books require more than one reading, some statements must be repeated, and some absolutes must be laid down again and again until they are heard. It is not always a matter or preoccupation or disinterest. Occasionally, the orbit simply widens beyond what we are able to comprehend. Such was the case with Abraham, the Chaldean. At age 99, satisfied that his race had been run and that his only remaining objective was gracefully to take up the long sleep, he was somewhat bewildered to hear God say to him,

Behold, my covenant is with you, and you shall be the father of a multitude of nations. No longer shall your name be Abram, but your name shall be Abraham ... and I will establish my covenant between me and you and your descendants after you throughout their generations for an everlasting covenant ... and I will give you and your descendants after you, the land of your sojournings, all the land of Canaan, for an everlasting possession. (17:3-8)

And this was not the whole of it. There was more.

As for Sarai your wife, you shall not call her name Sarai, but Sarah shall be her name. I will bless her, and moreover I will give you a son by her. (17:15, 16)

The orbit was widening. Abraham was justified in asking, "Shall a child be born to a man almost a hundred years old?" Had God taken into account that Sarah herself was ninety? Besides, Abraham already had a thirteen-year-old son, Ishmael, born of Hagar. To be sure, Ishmael was not timber for posterity, but God could surely see to that. "Let us do this thing through Ishmael," Abraham suggested. And God reiterated the lesson:

No, but Sarah your wife shall bear you a son, and you shall call his name Isaac. I will establish my covenant with him as an ever-lasting covenant for his descendants after him. (17:19)

His eyes murky and grey, the light almost gone from them, I have a notion the old fellow squinted in first one direction, then another ... focusing upon nothing in particular, simply surveying the reality of things around him in order to stabilize his wearied faculties. Some things are not immediately absorbed. Why now, and why in this way?

Who of us has not stood at some pivotal, transitional point in life, asking, "Why now, and why in this way?" An unexpected development alters our direction. Unusual circumstances catch us unaware. The rope with which we had things tied down becomes unraveled - not to the point of tragedy, mind you, but to the point of calling into question the matter of timing and method. If only the opportunity had come to us in our youth. If only we could rearrange things already in our possession rather than undertake a radically new challenge. Why now, and why in this way? It is a matter of timing and method, a matter addressed by the long-ago Preacher in Ecclesiastes: "For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven" (3:1).

The upshoot of Genesis 17:1-19 is that God had business to transact with Abraham, a covenant to establish. Let us now expand upon the obvious, for the transaction with the Chaldean contains certain affirmations relative to our own cases.

1. God Can Use Us Where We Are

Abraham feigned senility, implying that old age had rendered him incompetent, unable to dream new dreams or embark upon extended undertakings. Was it not in his memory that Adam had become the father of Seth at 130 years of age, had other sons and daughters, and died at the age of 930? Seth was 105 when Enosh was born and lived another 807 years. When Enosh was ninety, he became the father of Kenan. Enoch was 75 when Methuselah was born, Methuselah was 87 when Lamech was born, and Noah was 500 when he became the father of Shem, Ham, and Japheth. Age is a detriment to productivity, is it? At 88, Michelangelo produced architectual plans for the Church of Santa Maria degli Angeli; at 83, Aleksandr Kerensky wrote "Russia and History’s Turning Point;" at 82, Winston Churchill wrote "A History of the English-Speaking Peoples;" at 88, Konrad Adenauer was Chancellor of Germany; at 93, George Bernard Shaw wrote the play, "Farfetched Fables;" at 100, Grandma Moses was painting. I am personally acquainted with a remarkable minister on the Isle of Man who, at age 86, preaches at least once each Sunday, frequently walking to his appointment. Age is a detriment to productivity, is it Christian? I think not. God can use us where we are.

Elbert Hubbard wrote thousands of essays, illuminating almost every subject conceivable to the human mind. Perhaps his most famous work, "Message to Garcia," was written in 1889, sold in excess of eighty million copies in twenty languages, and extolled the virtues of yielding oneself to an unseasonable undertaking. Hubbard relates that when war erupted between Spain and the United States, it became necessary to communicate quickly with the leader of the insurgents. Garcia was somewhere in the mountains of Cuba, no one knew where. No telegraph message could reach him. A runner unfamiliar with the terrain and uncertain of his destination would certainly be captured. Still, it was imperative that President McKinley secure Garcia’s cooperation immediately. Just when it appeared all possibilities had been exhausted, someone said to the President, "There is a fellow named Rowan who can find Garcia for you if anybody can." Rowan was summoned, briefed on the importance of his mission, and given the letter to Garcia. Without the slightest hesitation, Rowan sealed the message in an oilskin pouch, strapped it over his heart, and in four days landed by night off the coast of Cuba in an open boat. He disappeared into the jungle and in three weeks came out on the other side of the island, having traversed a hostile country on foot. More importantly, he had delivered the message to Garcia. The thing which impressed Hubbard was this: When McKinley gave Rowan the message to Garcia, Rowan did not ask, "Where is he ... how shall I do it ... couldn’t somebody else go?" Nor, we might add, did he ask, "Why now, and why in this way?" He was willing to be used where he was. It is to Abraham’s credit that he was able to overcome the concern for his age, resolving that if this was to be his hour, he would oblige. It was just that, well ... why could God not do this thing through Ishmael?

Charles A. Tindley is a name which could easily have been listed among the countless anonymous, forgotten pilgrims who have sojourned through life’s little while, their footprints being swept away even as they were laid down. Born into a slave family, his mother died when he was two years of age. As a small boy, he was "hired out" to first one family, then another. Some were cruel and uncaring. He was not permitted to own a book, to learn to read, or to attend church. Pitifully, he would collect random bits of newspapers he would chance to come upon as he made his way to and from the fields. Having no pockets on his ragged clothing, he stuffed them inside his shirt or into the waist of his trousers. Secretly, he collected pine knots which he would light at night while others slept, hover over them to hide the light, and strain to learn the words on the tiny bits of paper. It was in this manner that Charles Tindley taught himself to read.

Providentially, a well-worn discarded Bible came into his possession. Night after night, hovering over low-burning pine knots, he tediously strained over finger-pointed words until he had read the entire Bible. He was subsequently overcome by a burning conviction that he must worship in God’s house. He determined that the following Sunday would be the appropriate time for his bold venture. On Saturday, he washed his most presentable shirt in ditch-water and stretched it across a tree limb to dry in the sun.

Sunday morning, he carefully brushed the hand-me-down trousers with the palm of his hand and slipped into the clean shirt. Barefoot, he stopped along the way to wash his feet in water which had accumulated in a road-rut, and dried them with leaves. As we would suspect, he entered the church quietly and assumed an inconspicuous place on a back pew. It was a "white folks" church and Charles felt terribly uncomfortable. In a while, the minister invited all children who could read to come forward to the front pew. Little girls in crisp, freshly ironed dresses and little boys wearing pressed short pants, long-sleeved shirts and knee stockings made their way to the pew of honor to read Bible verses. Charles could read. But no, he would be out of place to go to the front pew with the other children. However, he resolved not to be denied. As he made his way, people murmured and hissed. One gentleman actually reached out to restrain him. Charles politely jerked free of the man’s grasp and made for the front pew. When the time came for him to read, he read an entire chapter without stumbling over a single word.

From that moment, he wanted to be formally educated and "learn everything that he could learn." Again, providentially, a schoolteacher agreed to work with him in the evenings if he would be willing to come to her home when he had finished his work in the fields. Charles ran the seven miles to the schoolteacher’s house each evening. Thus did he receive his early formal instruction. In 1885, Charles A. Tindley was admitted to the Methodist ministry and assigned to pastor the same church which he had served as janitor. He went on to become an illustrious preacher in the Philadelphia Conference and composed many gospel hymns, including "Stand By Me."

The answer to the question "Why now, and why in this way?" is not always immediately apparent. In the long run, however, the answer frequently renders the question unintelligible. From Abraham to Tindley, from Tindley to your own experience, let the record show that God can use us where we are.

2. God Has A Better Plan

Abraham proposed that God work his wonder through Ishmael. Ishmael was born of a slave girl, but he was still Abraham’s own son. Let us take notice that God was undertaking to do a "new" thing. Abram received a new name, Sarai received a new name, and the covenant was to be consumated through a new son, Isaac.

And you shall call his name Isaac ... I will establish my covenant with him. (17:19)

The word "covenant" appears thirteen times in Genesis 17:1-21. The reference is unmistakably to a "new" and "everlasting" covenant.

W. E. Sangster has told of a group of missionaries who came upon a primitive tribe in a remote part of the world who worshiped the moon. The missionaries inquired as to why they worshiped the moon instead of the sun. The reply was made, "Because the stupid sun shines during the day when we do not need it when there is already light. The moon shines at night when we need light." The tribesmen were unable to comprehend that the sun created the light of day, as well as providing light at night by reflecting off the moon. Their belief was based upon a longstanding tradition which obscured the fact that all things in nature are conceived against the background of sunlight. Sangster suggests that such a primitive, uninformed understanding of reality is no greater an absurdity than the modern mind which cannot comprehend that all human affairs are conceived against the background of "covenant," God’s everlasting covenant with what he has made. The covenant with Abraham was to raise up a new people. Centuries later, a covenant was confirmed through Christ, gracefully extended, to create a new people ... redeemed, spirit-led transformed.

Therefore, he is the mediator of a new covenant, so that those who are called may receive the promised eternal inheritance. (Hebrews 9:15)

The covenant confirmed through Christ is an everlasting covenant. A recent news article reported that millions of Filipino Christians began Holy Week observances by whipping themselves, symbolic of Christ’s suffering. At least five persons re-enacted the crucifixion by being nailed to crosses on Good Friday. Other grim-faced, half-naked flagellants gathered in streets and church squares, lashing their backs with bamboo whips and glass-studded bats in a ritual introduced by Spanish friars 400 years ago. Their enthusiasm is to be admired, but the method of self-flagellation is utterly unnecessary. God has a better plan:

For Christ also died for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God. (1 Peter 3:18)

We are a covenant people. Crucifixions, mortification, and brutality need never be repeated again. That has been done. It is God’s plan that we become a new people.

God can use you where you are, whatever your age, occupation, or station in life. He can do a new and wonderful thing through you if you will only embrace the everlasting covenant which already includes you. "Oh, but I have a plan for my life," you say. As I mentioned in the beginning, some lessons are not immediately absorbed, and as you rush on now to see to your well-laid plans, lay this ageless testimony upon that part of your soul which reaches for the widening orbit: God has a better plan.

CSS Publishing Co., Inc., On His Way, by Larry Powell