Good Enough for God Work - Genesis 18:1-15, 21:1-7; Matthew 9:35-10:23
Even for the tidiest among us, there is a certain amount of uncleanness we’re willing to tolerate in our own homes. For instance, I’m a daily bed maker, and with a big shedding dog, I vacuum with some regularity. But I don’t know that I’ve cleaned my baseboards since I moved into the house, and as for the space under the guest bed, well, that feels like none of my business.
Of course there’s nothing like an impending guest to light a fire in the heart of the listless homeowner. If I am expecting company at midday - and company can mean anything from a visiting relative to the termite inspector - the morning hours will include a frenetic scouring and cleansing that would otherwise have taken days if not weeks to accomplish. I might even manage tea and cookies to boot.
As it turns out, the corner dust that I previously could not fathom wasting time on can actually be eradicated in seconds flat, along with every speck and spot in the bathroom, the kitchen, and the coat closet for good measure. And all for the sake of impressing a visitor. Although it might be more accurate to say, all for the sake of avoiding judgement that likely would not have been conveyed anyway.
That’s the thing isn’t it? I have never once gone to a friend’s house and noticed the state of their baseboards, but I am somehow convinced that they will notice mine. I feel determined that what is good enough for me could never be good enough for other people. And since what is manifested in our thoughts and actions is usually indicative of the state of our soul, I suspect that those fears run even deeper. If I am honest with myself and with you all today, I worry that while my heart may feel good enough for my own conscience, there’s no way it’s good enough for God.
In today’s Old Testament lesson we meet our dear friends Abraham and Sarah in one of their most relatable adventures. They had no warning and no time to prepare for their unannounced guests. So there was no quick dust or hurried wipe down of the countertops. Abraham quite literally had to run.
The scene could have been in a Charlie Chaplin film. He ran to meet his visitors. Then he ran back to his tent to give Sarah instructions about baking (as if she needed his help in any way). Then he ran all the way to the field to pick out a calf, which I can only assume he killed and field dressed, and brought it back for his servant to cook. Then he ran to present a fully prepared table to his guests, who had been watching silently, as if the film had been played at double speed.
It is truly comical, and it makes me wonder if Sarah was laughing at the idea that she could conceive a child in her old age, or at the even more preposterous idea that God would choose this silly, bumbling family of hers as the means for God’s promise to be upheld. Like me, I think Sarah had trouble trusting that her baseboards would pass muster.
But the messengers of God, ever stoic and succinct, are not deterred by the chaos. They deliver their message with all seriousness. After all, it’s the salvation of the world they’re helping to arrange. I find it encouraging that they do not call out Abraham’s ineptitude or indulge Sarah’s suspicion. What we find uncanny and unlikely, God takes very seriously.
The same is true in our Gospel passage. So far in Matthew’s telling, the disciples have been called to follow Jesus, they’ve heard him give a very lengthy Sermon on the Mount, and recently he’s begun to perform a few healing miracles. But this passage marks a shift in the narrative. It’s time for his followers to get to work, because Jesus’ time on earth is limited.
So he calls his disciples together and launches into quite an extensive set of instructions. I imagine them looking at each other frantically. Is somebody writing this down?! And some of the instructions read more like warnings. The task ahead will not be simple. But Jesus never seems to acknowledge the magnitude of this ask, or allow that it might not be worth the effort for all of those gathered. What the disciples - ancient and modern - find extraordinary and impossible, Jesus is willing to die for.
In both cases today, with Sarah and Abraham as well as with the disciples, God does little to no baseboard inspection. The only qualifications to serve seem to be willingness and a heartbeat, even when the chosen servants resist. In fact our scriptures are filled with stories of people who don’t think they are worthy or capable or good enough, but God uses them anyway. It seems that God has a much less critical eye towards our hearts than we do. Thanks heavens for that.
And so I wonder what things we have laughed off or ignored or hesitated to attempt because we’re sure, like Sarah and Abraham and Moses before us, that there is surely someone better for the job? When has our shame kept us isolated, trying to hide our hearts from God by hiding away ourselves like Adam and Eve or Jonah?
What a frequent yet foolish pursuit. There is, of course, nowhere we can hide from God. Instead, what awaits us when we accept the state of our spiritual baseboards and let God in, is not a reprimand, but a mission. We already have everything we need in order to do what God has called us to do. Dust and all.
You know, people often ask their priest to pray for them. When I am asked, I always say, “Of course I’ll pray for you, and I hope you’ll pray for me too.” People can respond awkwardly to this request, not because they assume I don’t need prayers, but because they assume their prayers pale in comparison to that of a clergy person. To this I say: nonsense.
It’s the baseboards debacle. It’s Sarah laughing at her perceived incompetence. It’s the disciples staring wide-eyed at an unflinching Jesus. If I could magically convince each of us, myself included, of one thing, it would be that our prayers and hearts are nothing short of beautiful to God. The parts of ourselves we’re most unsure of or embarrassed by? God cannot wait to make something amazing from them.
Despite their private uncertainty, or in Sarah’s case, blatant astonishment, today’s biblical witnesses all decided to trust in God’s promise, which meant trusting that what they had was enough, and that God would provide everything else. This, too, is our task.
So perhaps we could practice some openness, some honesty, maybe even a hint of vulnerability in our life with God. Because whether we feel confident or not, and no matter how outlandish it may seem, God has called us to good work in the world, and trying to hide from it is useless. Thankfully, as Sarah learned well, a good giggle at the miraculousness of God never hurts. Amen.