Sermon for the Second Sunday in Lent, Year C (3-16-25)

Now everyone be honest: how many of you actually read every line of those sprawling Terms of Service when you sign up for basically anything on the internet? You know, the pages and pages of fine print you have to accept before enjoying that free online account, or subscription? They are overwhelmingly long and equally dry and full of legalese. And as much as I know there's a risk of signing away something I probably shouldn't, I simply can't bring myself to read the fine print. It's boring and weird. So, most often I just click, scroll, and then click again and get on with my day.

But sometimes we do miss really important things when we fail to consider the fine print. Today's story in Genesis is a great reminder of that.

What a strange fever dream of a story, huh? We have a bit of Abram (not yet Abraham) kind of pressing God on a promise of an heir that was now about 25 years in the making. A quarter of a century of Abram doing what God's asked him to do, going where God's asked him to go. And still: no legitimate offspring. Abram is understandably starting to question God's promise.

So after a little back and forth with GOD - as Abram is often one to do - God asks that Abram procure a heifer, a female goat, a ram, a turtle-dove, and a young pigeon. And Abram does so and - seemingly without more instruction - cuts all the animals in two (except for the birds because, you know, a bit too small for the intended effect I guess). And then Abram lays them out in a kind of gory and probably smelly runway lined with slaughtered animals.

 What in the world is going on here? Allow me to take us through the fine print here for second.

What we see happening here is called suzerain/vassal covenant. Suzerain meaning ruler and a vassal being a less powerful leader who depends on the suzerain for goods, protection, land, etc. These forms of covenant-making were common in the ancient near-east. They were costly in that they required both expensive animals and that the consequences for breaking the covenant would result in the offending party ending up in the similar state to the animals that lay before them. Bloody and very much dead.

Both parties would agree on the terms of their covenant and then repeat those terms as they walked together between the animal remains. And they would add something to the effect of "and may my end be like these animals should I break this covenant." So, very important fine print here.

Back to our story: God seems willing to engage in such a ritual in order to assuage Abram's concerns surrounding this long-standing - but yet delivered - promise of an heir. And Abram also seems to understand what God is doing, because after assembling the animals Abram waits for God to show up. Because this covenant is only valid and binding if both parties walk together along the path.

This wouldn't be the first, nor the last time, God would interact with Abram in a physical form, so it doesn't seem odd to me that Abram would wait for God to show up. But he waits for God for so long that he has to shoo the vultures away from this enticing buffet he's laid out. And as the sun goes down, Abram falls into a deep and terrifying sleep. And then we read:

When the sun had gone down and it was dark, a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch passed between these pieces. On that day the Lord made a covenant with Abram, saying, “To your descendants I give this land, from the river of Egypt to the great river, the river Euphrates.”

The fine print of note here is: a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch passed between these pieces. Easy to miss and seemingly just a little bit of a random detail. But what if I told you that that fine print encapsulates nearly the entire foundation of our salvation story?

You see, a covenant was made that night. And God did show up. Seemingly in the floating smoke pot and torch as a nod to the pillar of cloud by day and fire by night that would one day lead a wandering people through the desert. God does show up in a mysterious way to double down on God's promise.  God walks the covenant path, and God walks that path alone. And in doing so, essentially saying: I will deliver on my promise whether you keep your end of the bargain or not. And if blood will be spilled to fulfill this covenant it will be mine. I will pay the price.

Every time I read this story I get goosebumps. And I hope it's beginning to become clearer to you why it's not a bad pick as we work our way through the preparatory season of Lent. This fine print contains so much of the ultimate promise that God begins in Abram. One that God does deliver on in the gifting of Jacob to Abraham and Sarah. And from Jacob the birth of a people, Israel. And ultimately, the promise fulfilled in the birth, death, and resurrection of God from that same people: Jesus the Christ, the New Covenant. The one who walks a different bloody path, only this time toward a cross.

It's all here in the fine print, friends. Perhaps not a bad thing to spend some time in, especially when we find ourselves doing a bit of waiting on God to show up. To remember the promises God has made, to Abraham and his children forever. And to be reminded that the promise has, indeed, been fulfilled.

Amen.