Genesis 15:1-18 · God’s Covenant with Abram
Falling Into Faith
Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18
Sermon
by Charley Reeb
Loading...

Woody Allen once quipped, “If there is a God, he is the ultimate under-achiever.” This statement is a stinging indictment, especially for those who have high expectations of God. Some may even find it offensive. It is unthinkable that God would want to do less than the very best for the world. However, these deflating words are not too distant from the attitude of Abraham at the beginning of Genesis 15.

Abraham has waited expectantly for the child that God has promised him and anticipated the joy of a son who would continue the lineage of the Hebrews. But his patience and anticipation run thin. He has experienced the days turning into weeks and weeks turning into months and months turning into years and, still, no son. So when a word from God is revealed in a vision which speaks about the promise of great rewards, Abraham can’t help but protest, “What do you mean, a reward? How can you say you will give me anything when you have not kept your promise of a son? Because you have not kept your promise, a slave born in my house is to be my heir. I must say that I expected more from the Creator of the universe.”

If we are honest, there are times when Abraham’s protest is our protest. Deep disappointments compel us to shake a fist at God for not fulfilling our expectations. Circumstances in life have not turned out the way we had hoped. Our lives have not turned out the way we had planned. Dreams have been shattered. Promises have been broken. Goals have been admired but never realized. Honest and earnest prayers appear to have no results. Life just doesn’t work out the way it was supposed to, and we are angry — angry with God, angry with life, and angry with ourselves.

In Arthur Miller’s play The Price, there is a scene where a couple is reminiscing about their lives together. As they reflect on their past, they sense what a disappointment their lives have been. They recall all the goals which were never realized. Climactically, the wife says to her husband, “Everything was always temporary with us. It’s as if we were never anything. We were always just about to be.”[1]

We have all been there: waiting desperately for the fruition of a hope but never seeing it come to pass. It is very agonizing and painful. We can only stand on our tiptoes for so long. Soon our hope shrinks before our growing disappointment, we become hopeless, and an existential doubt settles deep within our spirit.

God heard and felt a similar hopelessness in Abraham, so God led him outside to count all the beautiful stars. As Abraham gazed at the sky dotted with dazzling bits of light, God shared with him that his heir, his very own son, would produce as many descendants as there were stars in the sky. At this point, we would expect Abraham to chime in with the cynical sigh, “Promises, promises.” That is what most of us would have done. But this time, Abraham’s response was different: no complaints, no questions, no doubts, only belief that all of God’s promises would be fulfilled.

As we follow this dialogue, now is the time some may ask, “What just happened?” One moment Abraham is a pouting protestor, and the next moment he is a bonafide believer. One moment we are living vicariously through Abraham as he complains to God, the next moment Abraham accepts God’s promise and a big crown of righteousness is placed on his head. Did we miss something? What caused Abraham to move from doubt to faith so swiftly? The passage does not appear to help us in any way. For after God shares with Abraham the promise, scripture simply reads, “And (Abraham) believed the Lord” (v. 6). That’s it. God said it. Abraham believed it. That settles it. Or was there more to it than that?

Maybe pivotal pieces to this sacred conversation are missing from the text. Perhaps God answered all of Abraham’s questions and doubts about the delayed promise, and Abraham was satisfied.

Or maybe God led Abraham beyond the stars and gave him a big glimpse into the future filled with a great land and a blessed ancestry and said, “If you will just believe, all of this will be yours.” These are not bad explanations. If they were true, they would certainly make it easier to understand Abraham’s abrupt faith. But all we have are the words, “He believed the Lord: and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness” (v. 6).

What exactly happened that special night under the stars? I believe the key to understanding this remarkable transformation is to shift our focus from Abraham to God. After all, this is where the scripture is leading us. For Abraham to believe God in spite of his circumstance was nothing less than a miracle. The brilliant Old Testament scholar Walter Brueggemann put it this way: “[Abraham] did not move from protest to confession by knowledge or persuasion but by the power of God who reveals and causes his revelation to be accepted.”[2]

This idea of faith is foreign to many of us because we typically see faith as something that we provide, instead of something that God gives to us. But faith can only happen when we allow God to give it to us. We come to faith through God’s initiative, not ours. When we gain this understanding, we begin to see faith as giving in to the power of God and permitting that power to have control over our lives. The eloquent preacher John Claypool remembers when he had this epiphany regarding faith. He stated, “Faith is not believing in the unbelievable, nor is it committing intellectual suicide and taking a leap in the dark. But faith is response on our part to the inthrust of God.”[3] I believe this is what happened to Abraham. God “inthrusted” power and promise upon Abraham, and Abraham gave in and gave up. He finally arrived at the place where he waved the white flag of surrender and confessed that he needed God’s power more than he needed his own agenda.

Sometimes it takes a great deal of time before we learn what it means to have faith. Why do you think we often hear of people who came to faith when they were in the midst of great despair or anguish? It is not that God wills pain or suffering on anyone, but often people are more open to the power and purposes of God when pride and selfishness are weakened.

“I am in deep,” I cried out to God “I am deeper,” God replied

“How deep?” I asked

“Let go and see,” God sighed [4]

Henri Nouwen beautifully illustrates faith as letting go when he recounts his experience of seeing a German trapeze troupe perform. After the breath-taking performance, Nouwen sat down with Rodleigh, the leader of the troupe, and asked him how he was able to perform with such grace and precision. Rodleigh explained: “The public might think that I am the great star of the trapeze, but the real star is Joe, my catcher ... The secret is that the flyer does nothing and the catcher does everything. When I fly to Joe, I have simply to stretch out my arms and hands and wait for him to catch me

The worst thing the flyer can do is to try to catch the catcher. I am not supposed to catch Joe. It’s Joe’s task to catch me.”[5]

Such insightful truth applies to the principle of faith. Often times, we misunderstand faith as the ability to grab on to God by affirming certain beliefs about God. But that requires intellectual work, which can be stimulating, but it is not faith. Faith is allowing God to grab you, wherever you may be. For instance, when Jesus called the disciples, he did not say, “Before you can be my disciples, I need to tell you who I am and then find out if you believe me.” On the contrary, he simply commanded, “Follow me!” And the belief and understanding came only after they “gave in” and followed him. To use a metaphor, falling in love does not require an intellectual understanding or belief in love. The power of love does not invade only those who believe in it or desire it. In fact, love often comes unannounced. Even cynics have come to rest in the arms of love. Later, those same cynics come to know and believe in love’s power. The same could be said of God. Assuming that we must provide intellectual assent to everything we can discover about God in order to have faith presupposes that we are able to figure everything out. What a ridiculous notion! We are not capable of grabbing God by our own efforts or mental gymnastics. We are only capable of allowing God to grab us.

When we begin to understand faith in this manner, Abraham’s “change of heart” becomes clear. Abraham attained righteousness through faith not because of what he did but what he refused to do. Instead of controlling his life and destiny and taking God on his own terms, he accepted God on God’s terms and rested in the truth that God’s plan and promise was paramount, even if the timetable seemed uncertain. Abraham understood that “hope is trusting that something will be fulfilled, but fulfilled according to the promises [of God] and not just according to our wishes.”[6]

For Abraham, God was more than a vehicle for a promise. God was the Lord of his life. This is evident in Abraham’s attitude and strength in the midst of his barren situation. When Abraham first believed, his circumstances did not change immediately. Sara did not come leaping to him exclaiming she was pregnant, nor did a baby fall from the starry sky. But Abraham’s attitude changed. Instead of waiting in protest, he waited in hope. We see this in verse 8 when Abraham asks, “O Lord God, how am I to know that I shall possess it?” For Abraham, the question was no longer if or when, but how. Abraham was now confident that God’s promise for him would be fulfilled. He prepared himself through faith to receive it and looked toward the future with a renewed confidence.

When we open our lives to God’s gift of faith, the promises of God take on a whole new meaning. The profound statement of faith in Hebrews becomes flesh in us: “Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1). Our faith becomes a living out of the expectation that God’s promises will be known by us in the future. Through our thoughts, attitude, and actions, we become the very substance of that for which we hope. Our faith provides us with a vision of what God desires for us and the strength and conviction to live out that vision.

In The Baltimore Sun, there was an article about an artist suffering from macular degeneration, a disease which deteriorates the eyes and affects vision. You would think that an impairment of this kind would be an artist’s worst nightmare, but not for Sophia Libman. Ironically, the disease has helped her become a better artist. Because she is not able to see details, her ability to capture the essence of what she paints has increased. Her work has become more truthful, unencumbered by decoration. Her condition gives her the ability to envision and paint only the essentials.[7]

When we fall into faith, our wishes, expectations, and timetables for life become blurred and God’s vision for our lives comes into perfect focus. Our agendas move to the periphery to make room for God’s power, purpose, and plan for us. Soon we are able to see God’s will for our lives, and we begin to live out God’s promises.

Haven’t you waited long enough? Haven’t you listened to the promises of God long enough? Isn’t it time for you to follow Abraham’s lead and open yourself to God’s power and plan for your life? So why not let go and find faith. Give up and find God. Give in and find power. Fall back and find a future.


1. Maxie Dunnam, Pack Up Your Troubles: Sermons on How to Trust in God (Nashville, Tennessee: Abingdon Press, 1993), p. 79.

2. Walter Brueggemann, Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Preaching and Teaching-Genesis (Atlanta, Georgia: John Knox Press, 1982), p. 145.

3. John R. Claypool, The Preaching Event (Waco, Texas: Word Books, 1980), p. 101.

4. Poem by Charles D. Reeb.

5. Henri J. M. Nouwen, The Only Necessary Thing: Living a Prayerful Life (New York: The Crossroad Publishing Company, 1999), pp. 195-196.

6. Henri J. M. Nouwen, “A Spirituality of Waiting,” Weavings 2, no. 1 (January- February, 1987), p. 10.

7. Originally published in Circuit Rider, copyright The United Methodist Publishing House, Charles D. Reeb — January/February 2002. Article in The Baltimore Sun written by Holly Selby.

CSS Publishing Co., Inc., One Heaven of a Party, Year C Sermons on the First Readings, by Charley Reeb