The
excerpt we just heard [Genesis 18:20-32] from
the Old Testament saga of Abraham takes us back some 4000 years to the heights
overlooking the once great cities of Sodom and Gomorrah that no longer
exist, because (so the story says) of the
outcry against them – so different were their citizens from Abraham, whose
generous hospitality we heard about last week. Yet, although Abraham was
himself a recent immigrant in the region, he cared enough for the local population
that he was willing to plead with God to save them from destruction.
For
some, what stands out most strongly in this story is the picturesque image of
Abraham bargaining with God, as if he were some shopper in some stereotypical
middle-eastern marketplace. So strongly ingrained in the typical tourist
mindset is that marketplace stereotype that some, who have religiously read
their guidebooks, feel compelled to bargain about everything. I saw that myself
in Israel when I was studying in Jerusalem in the early 1990s. A group of us had
walked to Bethlehem for Mass at the Basilica, but to save time we decided to take
a taxi back. When the drivers stated their fares, some in our group started
trying to bargain down the amount. Meanwhile, I did a quick currency
calculation in my head and said to someone else in the group, “This taxi costs
less than a subway ride back home. Let’s just get in the cab and go!”
Foreigner
though he was, Abraham was certainly no tourist – a pilgrim perhaps in a land
not yet his, but certainly no tourist. And his relationship with God was
anything but commercial or transitory. Just before today’s excerpt, God who (as
we heard last Sunday) has just experienced Abraham’s generous hospitality,
suddenly says he cannot hide from Abraham what he is about to do, because
Abraham is destined to become a great nation, and all the nations of the earth shall be blessed in him [Genesis 18:17-18]. Now, in this serious debate in which
the fate of civilizations literally hung in the balance, we witness Abraham
already at work anticipating that promised blessing for all the nations of the
earth.
In
this, Abraham is sometimes compared favorably to Noah, who (at least as far as
we know) did not intercede for his neighbors. Abraham, however, cared not only
for his nephew Lot and Lot’s family, who were then living in Sodom, but for the
whole population of the doomed cities. For far too many of us, far too often,
Noah’s narrow concern may seem normal. Expanding the boundaries that limit
those we care about – expanding them to include others who don’t necessarily
look or talk or act like us – doesn’t just happen automatically (as contemporary
events in our own country and elsewhere keep reminding us). Abraham, however,
got it right – right from the beginning. In this he anticipated his greatest
descendant, Jesus, who would intercede with God for the entire world.
Sadly,
in Sodom’s case, only three were saved finally from destruction. Did Lot
deserve to be saved? He seems to have liked his settled and comfortable life in
the prosperous city and lingered when the time came to leave. But, for
Abraham’s sake, God got him out in time.
The
fate of those cities has never been forgotten. The prophet Ezekiel said they were proud, sated with food, complacent in
their prosperity, and they gave no help to the poor and needy [Ezekiel
16:49]. How familiar does
that sound? Jesus also used Sodom’s story as a warning. Whoever will not receive you or listen to your words – he said to
his disciples – it will be more tolerable
for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah on the day of judgment than for that town [Matthew 10:14-15].
In
a sense, those corrupt cities stand for human civilization in its most advanced
and successful state of development, complacently prosperous and comfortable
and deserving of judgment – a salutary warning perhaps for other advanced and
successful societies, like our own, and for us modern Lots who would likewise
like to linger complacently in prosperity and comfort.
But
at the same time the story also suggests that for the sake of just a few
innocent people God would have been willing to spare the cities. Unfortunately
there were none to be found there. If we, undeserving though we are, hope for
God’s mercy, that hope rests entirely in Abraham’s descendant Jesus, through
whom all the peoples of the world have finally been blessed once and for all.
Meanwhile
we have been given a lesson in how to imitate Abraham in caring about even
those who neither look nor talk nor act like us.
The
way Abraham insistently interceded for the citizens of Sodom says a lot about
the seriousness of his relationship with God. After all, the way I ask for a
favor always says something significant about my relationship with the one I’m
asking the favor from!
Today’s
Gospel [Luke 11:1-13] challenges to ask ourselves how we experience our
relationship with God. Is he a Father who can be counted on to give us that
fish or that egg he knows we need even better that we may know it? A Father,
who will give the Holy Spirit to those
who ask him?
In inviting us to call his Father our Father, Jesus
enables us to enter into a special relationship with God similar to his own –
sufficiently similar that we can confidently pray to God as frankly and freely
as Abraham did and Jesus does. Thus, we may become more like Abraham and
ultimately more like Jesus, who by becoming a blessing for us enables us to
join our prayer to his and so become a blessing for all the peoples and nations
of the world.
Homily for the 17th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Immaculate Conception Church, Knoxville, TN, July 28, 2019.
(Photo: Israel's Mount Sodom, a hill along the southwestern part of the Dead Sea in the Judaean Desert , featuring the pillar named "Lot's Wife.").
(Photo: Israel's Mount Sodom, a hill along the southwestern part of the Dead Sea in the Judaean Desert , featuring the pillar named "Lot's Wife.").
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