Sam Bush “Jesus, the Yes Man”
Hebrews 11:1-3; 8-16
How would you define the word “faith”? The word might have religious origins but it’s ubiquitous. People talk about their faith in humanity or something requiring a leap of faith. Because it’s used so liberally, its definition can be shifty. Well, in this morning’s reading, the book of Hebrews defines faith as “the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” The author says, “By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to set out for a place…not knowing where he was going.” In other words, you can’t have faith if you know where you’re going.
It’s a comforting thought because not knowing where one is going is a universal part of life. When my wife Maddy and I moved our family down to Durham, North Carolina last year for me to finish seminary, the future felt very unknown. We didn’t know where we were going to end up.
As our moving day approached, a friend offered a helpful three-word nugget of advice.
He said, “When you get to Durham, don’t say no.” His point, I think, was that when you’re in a new place it can be overwhelming. When it feels like you’re starting from scratch, there is a natural tendency to hunker down. But my friend was suggesting an openness to the strange. And, as our family settled into Durham (which, by the way, is not Mongolia - Durham is actually similar to Charlottesville), we took his advice literally. We decided not to turn down any social invitations. As we would schlep our kids out of the car for a dinner party or a cookout, Maddy and I would share a glance that basically communicated, “Well … here goes nothing!” Because that’s all we had at that given moment: a gracious dinner invitation from a stranger and a mustard seed of faith.
And what happened? Well, we met a lot of strange people. We decided to come back to Charlottesville. No, what actually happened was that we made deep friendships, people we hope to know for the rest of our lives. We couldn’t see it going forward, but we can see it in the rearview and we are still so grateful for our time there.
Think about your own life for a second. Where do you not know where you are going? It could be geographic; it could be tied to a new relationship or the end of a relationship or a loss of a loved one, wherever you feel like you’re on the edge of the unknown. What would it take for you to not say no?
Well, if you understand human nature at all, you know the honest answer is that it would take a miracle. The word “No” is deeply embedded into the human psyche. It’s often the first word we learn as children. Our culture prizes it as the noble alternative to being a Yes Man. You and I say “No” all the time, whether it’s out of fear, or fatigue or resentment. Of course there are plenty of reasons to say no to things, but, at least to me, a life generally lived out of “No” feels like a sad one whereas a life marked by “Yes” can feel like a working definition of faith. It doesn’t even have to be a resounding, confident “Yes.” Even when it’s done reluctantly, simply not saying “No” wedges a foot in a door that would otherwise stay closed. To be sure, it’s an unsettling place. Saying “No” comes at little cost whereas saying “Yes” could cost everything you have.
There’s a movie that came out last year called Yes Day with Jennifer Garner where, for twenty-four hours, the parents of a family agree to say yes to whatever their kids suggest. Everything from the Gut Buster Challenge at the ice cream parlor to going through a carwash with the windows down. Chances are your kids will love this movie and you will hate it. But if you watch it, you’ll see that saying “Yes” to each other brings this family much closer together than they were before.
Think of the people in your life who symbolize the word “Yes.” For me, I think of my high school youth leader. Kids of all ages, boys, in particular, any kid who had a hard time “falling in line,” would flock to him because he let them be ridiculous. He let them be who they actually were. While everyone else in their life - parents, teachers, even their own internal voice - would constantly say “No,” he would say “Yes.” Who represents “Yes” in your own life? Whoever it is, I would bet that a person has a deep, abiding faith.
The faith of Abraham is no different. Hebrews says, “By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called; by faith he stayed for a time in the land he had been promised; by faith he received power of procreation, even though he was too old-- and Sarah herself was barren…”
There is a reason why Abraham is known as the father of our faith. When Abraham is 99 and childless God shows him the night sky and promises that he will have as many descendants as the stars. How does the father of our faith respond? He doesn’t say “No,” but it’s not exactly a resounding, confident “Yes.” The book of Genesis says, “Abraham fell facedown; he laughed and said to himself, ‘Will a son be born to a man a hundred years old?’” His wife Sarah is no different - it says, “Sarah laughed to herself, saying, ‘After I have grown old, and my husband is old, shall I be fruitful?”
They laugh but the joke is completely lost on God. He is too genuine for their cynicism. There’s actually a funny exchange in Genesis where it says, “The Lord said to Abraham, ‘Why did Sarah laugh?...Is anything too wonderful for the Lord?” When Sarah denies it, saying, “I didn’t laugh,” God doubles down and says, “Yes, you did laugh.” I think it’s always awkward when you have to explain why something is funny, isn’t it? Especially when it’s God. But, while they laugh at God’s ludicrous promise of having a baby in their nineties, God says, “I’m not joking. What’s so funny?”
One chapter later, Isaac is born - Isaac, whose name means “he will laugh.” Only then, after her son is born, Sarah’s own laughter turns sincere. She says, “God has brought laughter for me; everyone who hears will laugh with me… Who would ever have said to Abraham that Sarah would nurse children? Yet I have borne him a son in his old age.” Laughter in this story is the appropriate response because what has happened is so absurd. The letter to the Romans says, “Abraham’s body was as good as dead and Sarah womb was also dead. In other words, God says, “From a double-dead scenario, I’m going to bring life. What else can you do but laugh? It was funny then and it’s funny now.
Faith, you see, is a double laughter. There are two laughters of faith. The first is the laughter of human impossibility (that Abraham and Sarah looked at themselves and laughed). The second is the laughter of surprise when God makes the impossible come true. Faith laughs at itself and says, “I can’t” and it laughs with joy in response to God and says, “He can.” Faith says “No” to me and faith says “Yes” to God.
Of course, we are only open to the absurd when all other alternatives are exhausted. The birthplace of the Christian faith is at the grave of our faith in everything else - in ourselves, in humanity. Faith only happens when you have nothing left to lose, when you are 99 and are told you are going to have a baby. What’s your own version? What in your life feels too wonderful for God? Is it to be reconciled with someone with whom you haven’t talked in years? Is it finding a spouse? Is it falling back in love with your current spouse?
Whatever it is, know that God’s promise is always that which is humanly impossible; from a camel going through the eye of a needle to God’s temple being torn down and raised three days later. In other words, God’s specialty is your futility. It may feel like a joke or something too good to be true, but nothing is too wonderful for God.
The truth is that neither Abraham or Sarah lived to see the fulfillment of God’s promise.
They were called to a Promised Land but they died as wandering nomads. They were promised innumerable offspring, but they had just one son together. In the end, there was little they could do but hope and trust that God would be faithful down the line.
Dying before God’s promise to them was fulfilled may have seemed like their faith was in vain. It may have seemed like they should have just said “No” to God at the start. That is how we often respond to God. Jesus’ death on the Cross was the world’s emphatic “No” to God. But the God we are dealing with is a God that defeated death and where death is not the end. And He is a God that will not take No for an answer.
There are very few times when Jesus ever said “No” to someone and there was never a time when he simply walked away from a person in need. His “Yes” was given to everyone — particularly those who were well-acquainted with hearing “no.” Jesus was the divine “yes” to the “no” of the world. As the Apostle Paul says in 2 Corinthians, “As surely as God is faithful, our word to you is not “Yes and No.” For the Son of God, Jesus Christ, whom we proclaimed among you was not “Yes and No,” but in him it has always been “Yes.” For in him every one of God’s promises is a “Yes.”
What does this mean for you? Well, it will sound like good news if you’re someone who trusts God but doesn’t trust God at the same time; if you’re someone who says, “Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief;” if you’re someone who cannot help but laugh at the promise that nothing is too wonderful for God.
Faith, you see, is not something we generate, but a gift we receive from God. Faith is not identical with piety. It is simply surrendering your control to God when you do not know where you are going. What is faith but one’s hesitant surrender to God’s insane promises? One could even say that the entire Christian life is nothing but a strange, bumbling adventure after a person simply says “Yes” to Jesus. But before you even think of saying Yes to Jesus, know that he first has said Yes to you. Amen.
