This is the view from Masada - the fortress of Herod the Great, and it offers magnificent views across to the
And today’s reading needs
a wee bit of background to help set the scene. As we join the story this
morning, a confederacy of four Eastern Kings has been subjugating the cities
around the Dead Sea . Their homelands were in
modern Iraq and Iran and possibly Turkey ,
so these Dead Sea towns were probably at the
outer reaches of their influence.
But they wielded enough
power there to frighten the locals into submission for 12 years until their
Kings summoned their courage and decided it was time to throw off the yoke of
the oppressor and offer some resistance.
But their rebellion was
short lived and soon crushed. The Eastern Kings marshalled enough troops to
ride in and pillage the towns where the resistance had started, and carry away
their wealth and their people.
And among the captives was
someone we last saw heading off towards the cities of the plain with a spring
in his step – Abram’s nephew Lot .
Up until this point in
time, Abram hadn’t got involved. But when Lot
was taken, things became personal.
Although Abram was still a
stranger in the land and had no formal rank or status, he’d become a big
player. He was a man of substance, with flocks, wealth and a sizeable entourage
travelling with him, and his intervention made all the difference.
With several hundred men
at his disposal, as well as cunning and local knowledge, Abram managed to pursue
the enemy forces as they retreated, overcoming them in a night-time attack and
chasing them all the way to the outskirts of Damascus .
Not only that, he managed
to recover the people and the goods that had been taken away, including his
nephew.
So on his return, Abram’s
become something of a local hero. And we’re told that two kings went out to
meet him at the Valley
of Shaveh . The King of
Sodom, whose name we’re never told, and the King of Salem, whose name was
Melchizedek.
And the contrast between those
two Kings couldn’t really be greater. One’s out to get while the other one’s
out to give.
Already in Genesis, we’ve
had a marker put down about Sodom .
In Genesis 13:13, as Lot heads off down
into the fertile valley and the cities of the plain, we read:“Now the people of Sodom were wicked, great sinners against the
Lord”.
The extent of their decay
becomes clear in a few chapters time, but lest we think it’s all down to sexual
immorality, it’s worth pausing to hear these words from the prophet Ezekiel.
Personifying Sodom as a woman, God
says this of her, through Ezekiel: “She
and her daughters were arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the
poor and needy. They were haughty and did detestable things before me.
Therefore I did away with them as you have seen..”
So according to the
Scriptures, Sodom ’s
demise was as much down to her arrogance and her neglect of the poor as
anything else.
And that, perhaps, gives
us a clue to the character of the man who was Sodom ’s King.
Look at how he comes out
to meet Abram. He arrives empty handed to meet the man who’s saved the day, and
the first word we hear from his lips is ‘Give’. Give me the people, but keep
the loot for yourself.
Now at first that has the
appearance of generosity. But according to ancient custom the spoils were
Abram’s already, by right of conquest. And given that he’d just defeated the
forces who’d sacked Sodom ,
the King of Sodom should have been at Abram’s mercy and deep in his debt. He
was in no position to be negotiating with him; but even in defeat, his
arrogance was undiminished.
A lesser man than Abram
might have jumped at the chance of increasing his wealth, because the goods
taken from Sodom
would have been among the best the ancient world had to offer.
But Abram had little time
for them; he had no need for the luxuries of the plain as he made a life for
himself in the hill country. And he was wise enough to see the hook that was
hidden beneath the bait of this offer. If he took these goods, he’d be bound to
the local Kings, and they’d always be able to claim that they’d made him who he
was. And Abram valued his independence and his faith too much for that.
“No.”
he said. “I solemnly swear before the
LORD, the most high God , maker of heaven and earth, that I will not keep
anything of yours, not even a thread or sandal strap.”
So the King of Sodom
leaves with everything he’d lost returned to him, and yet somehow strangely
diminished. Having had to rely on this foreigner who refused even to take so
much as a sandal strap from him in payment.
It’s a marked contrast
with how Melchizedek deals with Abram.
The first thing it’s
important to realise is that Melchizedek owed Abram nothing. Salem ,
which scholars think was an ancient name for Jerusalem , doesn’t seem to have been touched
by this dispute. The King of Salem wasn’t one of the local Kings who led the
resistance, and Salem
wasn’t one of the towns affected by it.
Personally, Melchizedek
owed Abram nothing, and it seems that the only reason he came out to greet him
was to show gratitude for the part that he’d played in setting things right,
locally.
The King of Sodom brought
nothing but a command. “Give” he said. Melchizedek brings out bread and wine –
a celebratory fellowship meal for the victors in which we can’t help hearing
overtones of the Lord’s Supper.
And that’s compounded by
the disclosure that Melchizedek, as well as being a King, is also described as
a priest of the Most High God.
And that in itself is
puzzling and fascinating.
We know that the Old
Testament, and the New, are peppered with references to priests and their
duties. There are swathes of the Pentateuch, the first five books of the Bible,
which go into minute detail about their role and function. A whole tribe of the
people of Israel ,
the Levites, were given the task of overseeing the priestly function of the
community.
But all that is ahead of
us. There were no Israelite priests at this point in the story.
As far as we’re aware,
Melchizedek was a Caananite. We couldn’t even call him a Jew, because that term
originated with Abram. It was his family and entourage who became the Jews.
So in all likelihood,
Melchizedek was a priest in a whole other religious system. And yet here he is,
described as a priest of the Most High God – the very term that Abram himself
used of God.
So what’s going on? Well,
the scholars suggest that Melchizedek has understood that the Most High God of
the Canaanite pantheon, and Abram’s God are one and the same, and in Abram’s
victory he perceives and celebrates that High God’s activity.
And that is why he brings
his blessing:
“May the Most High God, who made heaven and earth,
bless Abram. May the Most High God, who gave you victory over your enemies, be
praised!”.
And Abram, we read, responded by giving him one tenth of everything – presumably meaning the loot that he’d recovered after the raid.
Why such generosity?
Well, we’re left to speculate
at this point. but a couple of reasons come to mind quite readily.
Firstly, simple gratitude.
Abram and his men would
have been tired and hungry after their escapades. They’d ridden through the
night, fought hard, and then lugged all the goods and the captives back to
where they came from.
When you’re tired and
famished, there is no greater gift than simple hospitality. Somewhere to sit
down in comfort. Something tasty to fill your belly.
And when it’s a stranger
who unexpectedly blesses you in that way, it’s even more of a gift.
Perhaps Abram was becoming
used to the cold shoulder in that part of the world. The promised land wasn’t
yet his, and though his prospering was a blessing, it would also have attracted
envious stares and suspicion from the establishment. Men like the King of
Sodom.
So to have been greeted in
this way by a local King, out of generosity and not obligation, would have
meant a great deal to Abram.
It might seem early to be
talking about Christmas, but it’s only another four weeks ‘til Advent begins.
And for this year’s Right Christmas campaign, we’re going to change the focus a
little.
Rather than trying to
raise money, we’re going to try and raise generosity. We’re going to be
encouraging you to give gifts of time and effort to someone, and we’re asking
you to think hard about how you might be able to bless someone whom you don’t
know very well.
It’s all well and good
blessing kith and kin; we already do a lot of that at Christmastime. But to
paraphrase Jesus – ‘even the pagans do
that’.
How might we go the extra
mile and bless someone we don’t know very well, and to whom we have no real obligation?
It’s those kinds of gifts that can make the greatest impact.
I offer that just to get
you thinking – more ideas will be surfacing as the weeks go on.
Getting back to the story,
I Abram was generous because he was touched by Melchizedek’s generosity.
But I think he also found
in him a kindred spirit.
Remember the story so far.
God’s call comes to Abram in a distant land. He journeys hundreds of miles to
Canaan, then to Egypt ,
and then back again, gathering people and possessions as he goes, but all the
while feeling strangely alone. His faith sets him apart.
But then, out of the blue,
Melchizedek arrives on the scene not just to feed him, but to bless him in the
name of the Most High God.
It must have been like
hearing someone speak a few sentences in your own language after months of
living in a foreign country. Here was someone who knew; who understood. Someone
else who acknowledged Abram’s God. And in offering his blessing in the way that
he did, Melchizedek affirmed that Abram was still on the right track. Still in
the centre of God’s will. And how he must have valued that assurance.
He valued it enough, the
writer tells us, to give away a tenth of everything.
If you have a good memory,
you may remember that way back when we began Abram’s story, one of the things
God said to him was “I will bless those
who bless you”.
Here we see that promise
coming to fruition. Melchizedek blesses Abram, and is blessed in return.
And the more I go on, the
more it seems to me that that is how the economy of God works.
If we are mean with our time, talents and money, we’ll find little reward in living. If we’re generous with them, and we use them to bless others, we’ll enjoy them far more and our lives will be richer for it.
Two men came out to meet
Abram. One wanting to get, and one wanting to give.
One is forgotten about.
His way led to destruction. The other is celebrated and remembered for his
generosity.
100 people gather for
worship. Are we here to get or to give as we take the Lord’s Supper? Is our
being here some kind of grudging acknowledgement of a debt that’s been paid for
us? A nod in the general direction of God before we head home to forget about
him and go our own sweet way again?
Or do we come to this
table with generosity and gratitude; not only to receive a blessing, but asking
how we might serve and become a blessing?
In this season of
stewardship, when all our members are being asked to consider raising their
giving in a testing time when prices don’t stand still for the church any more
than they do for you and me, what’s our attitude as the bags come round?
Is what we give back to
God’s work in the world our first priority, or our last? Does God get the first
fruits of our labour, or the fag ends? What does that choice say about how much
we value him?
Two men came out to meet
Abram in our story this morning. One wanting to get, and one wanting to give.
Which one are you today?
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