Second Sunday in Lent

Genesis 17:1-7,15-16; Psalm 22:22-30; Romans 4:13-25; Mark 8:31-38

We might call this "Big Promise Sunday."  God comes to Abraham when he is 99 and promises him that Sarah, who is 89, will bear a son  (Poor Sarah!).  The lectionary leaves out some key parts of this story.  It doesn't include the verse where Abraham laughs at God, dismissing the possibility.  Isaac's name stands in testament to Abraham's disbelief.  The lectionary also cuts out the command that all the males in Abraham's company be circumcised.  Big promises call for binding commitments.  And here's what strikes me today: 

Even though Abraham isn't convinced, he still goes through with the circumcisions.

His reason tells him to doubt God's promise, but he acts in faith.

In the letter to the Romans, Paul tells us that this faith "was reckoned to him as righteousness."  It's an elegant phrase, but one I often slide through without thinking. But today I wonder.  What is this faith?  And what is this righteousness to which his faith amounts?

We often talk of faith as a matter of ideas and intellectual assent, of belief.  But faith is more an action and commitment than an idea or belief.  Abraham doesn't exactly believe God, but he trusts God and is committed to the relationship.  He doesn't "have" faith, like a possession; he "does" faith, like doing justice.  He acts faithfully.  And this faithful action counts in God's sight as righteousness, as being right with God and people.  

I don't always know what to think about God's promises.  Do I even understand what Jesus is talking about when he calls me to lose my life to save it?  Do I really?  I don't think so.  But that's not what matters.  What matters is that I try to act as if I get it, I try to do what is clear -pray, worship, share, serve.  I trust in the promise even when I don't believe or understand it.  I trust in the one who is promising.

Our Lenten journey is a journey on a path of promise.  The way is scary and tedious.  We are promised death to our old self and resurrection life.  It's crazy.  I want it, as much as Abraham wanted a son.  Do you want it?  Do you want it enough to pick up your cross and follow?