One has to wonder if the conflict between Ishmael and Isaac’s mothers might be the beginning of the conflict in the Middle East. It’s a simple explanation of things. Here we have two sons, both beloved by their father, and both blessed by God and given nationhood. From Sarah’s point of view, any other inheritance is robbing her son’s inheritance. From Hagar’s point of view, she was the mother of the firstborn son, the one entitled to a greater inheritance, and in recognition of that, they are thrown out to die of thirst in the wilderness. What kind of God would be a party to this?

This is a brutal, inhumane situation. Two mothers, two sons, one father. Things must have been interesting around Abraham’s tent with these two mothers. My own grandmother hated to hear other women brag about their kids and grandchildren. She listened out of politeness, but it was so obvious to her that this other woman’s kids were nothing compared to hers. Today’s story takes my grandmother’s quirk and makes it a life-and-death struggle. Hagar and Ishmael are as good as dead, and God again intervenes, this time on behalf of Hagar. We’re familiar with that phrase, “as good as dead.” We mentioned it last week, as we contemplated the potential for the birth of a son through Sarah. Isaac’s parents were “as good as dead,” but the faithful God of severe grace brought new life out of those two old geezers. Today, should we ask, “which child is the real child of the promise?” Or should we be asking another question?

I think that, if we want another couple of thousand years of conflict in the Middle East, we should continue asking, “which child is the real child of the promise?” If we want to learn more about the God who makes the promise—which is the whole point of scripture—we should ask another question. How about asking, “What does this tell us about the promise-maker?”

The promise made to Abraham and both boys is the promise God always makes: presence, posterity, place, blessing. This promise is made throughout scripture, all the way to the birth of another baby also born to a childless mother—a woman childless because of virginity, not old age. This child is God’s promise made flesh and blood. By the time we get to Romans, we hear Paul telling us that God keeps that same promise to people as good-as-dead—us. How that promise is kept depends on what we allow God to do. In The Exorcist, Linda Blair invites evil into her life when she dabbles in magic—and look what happens to her! Head-spinning and green spew. Certainly not evidence of God’s promise of presence, posterity, place, blessing—just the opposite! It’s a backward proof that it makes a difference what we invite into our lives. We invite God into our lives through the sacraments of baptism and communion. No head-spinning, no spew. Just putting flesh to God’s promise and presence. How? When? When we pray as if we believe God will heal and God will guide. When we are generous with what we have “because we know our needs have already been taken care of”—even before we are aware of the needs. When we respond to God’s call to challenging ministries that are outside our comfort zones. When we act as if our small deeds of kindness make a difference in the world. This is promise lived out in our flesh and blood—not pie-in-the-sky abstractions. Maybe the promises aren’t kept in the way we originally thought, and certainly almost never on our timetable. But God’s promise lived out in our flesh.

You know how in wars they talk about “collateral damage”? In modern media-speak, that means non-military targets. Like the villagers killed last week in Afghanistan. That’s “collateral damage.” Things hit that you didn’t intend to hit, but which are a (sometimes) unavoidable consequence of being at war and wanting to kill other people. Hagar and Ishmael are “collateral damage” to God’s plan, brought into the story by Abraham and Sarah. Would Yasir Arafat be where he is today if Abraham and Sarah had waited more patiently for a son, instead of making one themselves? That’s like me asking if I would be a pastor in Springwater if I my first marriage hadn’t been so disastrous. God redeems, but God is too respectful to stop us when we are hell-bent on self-destruction. On the other hand, God doesn’t leave us to stew in the consequences of our foolishness. We are not victims—even of our own sin. Abraham and Sarah steal God’s initiative for the promise. God, with incredible, radical tenderness and love, does not abandon Hagar and Ishmael out of disgust with Abraham and Sarah. Ishmael is also Abraham’s son, and despite Sarah’s disapproval, Ishmael, too, gets a promise of presence, posterity, place, and blessing. Let’s pretend your parents promise to take you to Disneyland for a week. You’re not sure when this will happen, they seem to take forever to get around to doing it, so you go to Oaks Park for an afternoon. Instead. Both are amusement parks, but Oaks Park is not Disneyland! What if your parents thought you were saying you’d settle for that, instead of a week at Disneyland? God is too faithful to let Abraham and Sarah settle for less than the full promise. And too faithful to let us settle for less than the full promise.

Here is what I want you to remember from today’s sermon: We can live in volatile situations not because of what we have but because of what God gives us. Imagine these two mothers vying for the promise through Abraham to her son? As if God would only keep the promise once. I’m not saying Hagar and Ishmael should have stuck it out in Sarah’s territory. God is not in the abuse business. But what if Sarah had trusted God to continue to keep the promise that Isaac would inherit, even after she’d jumped the gun? Sarah took God’s promise at face value, and trusted that Isaac would inherit? What if Hagar had believed God blessed their departure? Would Hagar have seen the well earlier? As it was, God was with the child as he grew up. Ishmael became a nation. Even “collateral damage” is redeemed by God. Incredible good news. What kind of God would do that? It is the same God who says through Jesus, “Do not think I have come to bring peace to the earth.” This is good news? It might not be, but it is about priority. What is your priority? Jesus answers, “Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

Presence, posterity, place, blessing. Even for us. Not because of what we can accomplish or manipulate or maneuver. Because of what God gives us. The promise is God’s. The faithfulness for keeping the promise also belongs to God. Presence, even when all of the details of your life unravel into complicated messes like divorce and children storming out of the house and not enough money to buy your meds. Presence and posterity. Most people fear that no one will remember who they were or what they did when they are gone. Christians need not have that fear. Christians, through their baptisms, are assured of a place in the family of God, which is also the assurance of posterity. Receive God’s blessing, my friends. You belong to God. In life and in death.