The Privilege of Praying from a Holy Place - Genesis 18:20-33

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

I was trying to encourage people to come to church early, to come into the sanctuary in solitude and quiet and use the time pre-service to engage in prayer with the Lord. The Divine Service was at 9am; we opened the sanctuary doors at 8am for prayer. It didn’t matter if it was prayers printed in the front of the hymnal, or a Psalm, or a favorite hymn, or something that was simply from the heart, but the encouragement was for people to be in prayer.

If you want to know what is on a person’s mind or on their heart, listen to what is in their prayers. There you will find the most intimate and personal thoughts, needs, concerns, hopes, joys, and praises of a person – things that they won’t tell a spouse or parent, a child or a sibling, a best friend or even their pastor, people will carry to the Lord in prayer. This is good that, in faith, those intimate words and thoughts, and sometimes groans and moans, are delivered to the Lord. He wants us to pray to Him. He invites us to pray, He calls us to pray, He commands us to pray – not in threatening, snarling Uncle Sam “I want you!” manner, but like a parent saying to his or her child, “Go ahead, tell me.”

Those Sunday mornings God’s faithful people entered the sanctuary to pray. At first, most were timid – almost as if they were embarrassed being caught praying in church. And, most prayed silently, one or two murmuring a few words here or there, lips moving to form words that were more sounds than vocable. And, then it happened. A woman asked if it would be OK if she prayed out loud – that is how she prayed at home, and it felt awkward praying silently. She began to speak her prayers, not Pharisaically loud so all could hear and marvel at her faith, but conversationally, as if God were sitting next to her and she was simply talking to Him. She prayed for a friend who was sick, and for her adult kids who didn’t know Jesus, and her grandkids who did but were facing strong temptations. She prayed for me, for the preaching and teaching, and for others who would be at the church that morning. She prayed without timidity or embarrassment. A few weeks later, a man prayed out loud – not as eloquently, but in its simplicity, there was beauty. He prayed for rain for the hay and for his cattle to grow so he could feed his family, for a family member in prison, for another family member being sued. In those moments, in those prayers, the faithfulness of God’s people was evident as they laid their petitions open before God and before brothers and sisters in Christ.

You have a moment such as that in this morning’s Old Testament reading from Genesis 18. I would encourage you this afternoon to open your Bible and read the chapter in its entirety. This morning, we are privileged to overhear a conversation, a prayer offered by Abraham to the Lord God. This is an intimate conversation, spoken from his heart to the ears of the Lord, offered in faith and in confident hope that the Lord will hear and respond.

Abraham is standing on a hill outside the two cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, looking down into the lush, green valley below. But, he’s not there looking at the beauty of the fields, or calculating how many head of animals he could be running if the land was his. Instead, he is standing in a perilous place. He has just entertained three angels who told him of the Lord’s anger and coming wrath against the cities. Sodom and Gomorrah – just the names invoke the image of wanton, open sinfulness that would make Vegas, New Orleans, Singapore, and Amsterdam blush in shame. So great, so grievous, so wretched was their sin that the Lord has heard their debauchery from the heights of heaven and He has descended to see it Himself. And when the Lord sees and when He hears, He declares He will bring down, not water, but fire and He will destroy the cities and everyone who lives therein. And Abraham, as he looks down into the valley, he sees what is about to come as the wrath of the Lord rolls toward the cities like a massive wall of fire.

Put yourself in Abrahams’s sandals for a minute. What would you do? What would you do if you were standing there, having received this word of warning from God Himself, and now you are about to witness the sheer terrifying and awful wrath of God poured out on those who deserve it most?

One option is to turn away, to run away and hide. My oldest daughter would say, “Not your monkey, not your circus.” Translation: it’s not your problem. After all, you are safe and you are saved, so grab your wife, run back inside, tie the tent flaps and tell her, “You’re probably going to hear something terrible but don’t worry. It’s God just giving them what they deserve. So, what’s for supper?”

Another option is to grab your servants – you have plenty of them, after all – arm them tooth and nail and go down there and be an instrument of the Lord’s wrath. Our anger mingles with God’s, justifying our vengeance, serving the Lord, delivering His vengeance and showing our displeasure at what the neighbors have done.  Onward Yawheh’s soldiers, heading down to war, with our bows and arrows, settling God’s score… 

Depending on the day, depending on how I feel, I could see myself doing one…or the other. How about you?

But Abraham, Abraham does the most amazing thing. He doesn’t run; he doesn’t arm up for battle. He prays. He simply prays. Now, I’ll agree that it’s the most unusual prayer. It’s not like anything you’ll find in the front of our hymnals. It’s unlike any Psalm. It’s probably unlike anything you would ever pray. In fact, it sounds more like a business negotiation, a merchant bargaining for a bargain. “Lord God, if there are 50 righteous, faithful people in the city, surely you wouldn’t destroy them along with all the wicked? You are merciful and gracious. Far be it from you to sweep away the righteous and the wicked!” And the Lord says, alright, for the sake of 50 I will not destroy the city. Abraham prays again, “What if there are five fewer – what if there are 45? Will you destroy the city with 45 righteous people?” The Lord agrees – for 45 he will spare the city. Again and again Abraham prays, arguing for, leaning on, imploring for the mercy of God: 40, 30, 20, 10, like an auctioneer calling out for the best price, Abraham pleads God to spare the city for the sake of ten righteous people. And God agrees – for the sake of ten righteous, He will spare the city.

When there are lives in the balance, in human agony Abraham implores God’s mercy and compassion. But notice, also, the faith of Abraham. Holding on to the God that He knows through the covenant. When faced with this God, the God of wrath and judgement, seeing the wrath of God, Abraham holds on to the mercy of God, and He does it because He has heard another sound – not the sound of man’s sinfulness, but the sound of the song of Zion.

When the Lord visited Abraham under the tree at Mamre at the beginning of the chapter, the message was that Abraham, who had prayerfully asked God for a son, would indeed have a son within a year. A Son of the promise. And God promised that Abraham would be a great nation through that one son. And, through that nation, all nations of the world would be blessed. So, standing on that hillside, with the sinful world below and the wrath of God above him, Abraham clings to the mercy of God.

That is the privilege of prayer. It is a privilege that we desperately need today. Think of it. We are here on the crest of this hillside of Zion, looking down into the sinful world around us. It doesn’t take long to hear it, the sin of the world, does it. Turn on the radio, the TV, and listen to any news station. If you really want to be brave, turn off all filters and risk an internet search. It’s easy to hear of, to see the sin of the world. Another shooting last week, this time inside a mall. Sexual immorality, homosexuality, heterosexual promiscuity is not only on the city streets and in sleezy hotels but in the privacy of our living rooms thanks to www-dot-you-don’t-want-to-know.com. Businesses are oppressing the poor in the ever-ending desire for profits. Civic leaders line their pockets while ordinary citizens dig deep and find coins that go less and less far. We hear this, and we recognize it all for what it is, great and grievous against both God and man. And, if we hear it you know God hears it as well and what it is like for his ears as we all have fallen so far from the glory of His creation.

How do you live? How do you live as a Christin in that world? You can run – there is just too much, to great a force against us. Some will retreat into their homes, into some sort of Christian solitude, into their church buildings, thanking God they are saved. Others – others run into the battle with hatred. You see them, don’t you? They carry posters, “God hates ______.” They get on busses, ride motorcycles, and shout the message to the world that God hates them. Some run away; some run in.

And then there’s another way. There is another way to live, you know. There is the way of Abraham. Remember - Abraham stands on the crest of the hill before the Lord and with His wrath coming, Abraham prays. He prays for the fallen world. That is a holy place. That is a holy conversation with God, set apart by God for you. Think about it: when Jesus died on the cross, he was there on the crest of a hillside outside the world and from there He could see the whole, fallen world in front of Him and below Him. The sin of the world was seen and heard, from Adam and Eve to the day He returns, and He heard the outcry of the sin-stained world in the mocking words of the religious leaders, “If you really are who you say you are, save yourself and come down from the cross!”

But He didn’t. He didn’t come down from the cross because He didn’t come to save Himself. He came to save you. He came to save this world, this fallen world that you live in. And when Jesus was dying, He heard another sound – the sound, not of God’s wrath, but the song, a faint strain of the song of salvation of Zion. Jesus opened His mouth in prayer, “Father, forgive them.” His Father heard, and He answered. Just as you are privileged to hear Abraham’s prayer, you are also privileged to hear Jesus’ prayer, and when you overhear that prayer, you are taken to the heart of your Savor.  God forgives you -not for the sake of 50 righteous, or 40 or 30 or 20 or even 10. God forgives you for the sake of the One who is truly Righteous, Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who bore the wrath of God for you. There He was with the wrath of God above Him, the sinful world below Him, and the entire wrath of God was poured out on that One Man so that the entire mercy of God could be poured out on the world.

And the Lord Jesus calls you and me and His church. He calls us to stop running away from the world in fear. He calls us to stop running into the world with hate. He calls us to stand. Stand here with Him. Stand here in Him. And join your voice to sing that song of Zion. Abraham sang it. Jesus sang it for you. And now you have the privilege of singing the song for the world.

So, what does that look like? It’s not as easy as it sounds for Abraham. It’s not like God wakes you up one morning with a text telling you what’s going to happen to those people over yonder. But, at the same time, it’s not as difficult as we make it out to be. It’s not that we have to get up at 5am so we can spend 2 hours in prayer before getting breakfast, praying for this world and those around us; or, that we need special prayer formulas and books and places to pray. Actually, it’s much more simple than that. It looks like life. Tuesday morning, you’re heading to work and you pass an accident on the side of the road. Firetrucks, ambulance, police cars, all surround 8000 pounds of metal that used to be two cars. Or Friday, you turn on the TV at lunchtime to hear the news break in that there was a mass casualty event – details are sketchy – but you think of the families. Or in Sundays prayers, you are reminded that there are brothers and sisters in Christ who are suffering mightily, even if you don’t know the details. And, in those minutes, you think of those people involved, and you think of your own family, and you find yourself longing for the kingdom of God and the coming of Jesus to end the hurt and pain and senseless destruction that we all-too-often create on this earth. And, in that moment, you are given the privilege of prayer.

Now, I admit – it doesn’t sound like prayer, not like the ones you learned as a kid, or the ones we pray formally in worship, and it doesn’t even sound like Abraham. Instead, it sounds like fear and anger and worry and frustration and sadness, all wrapped up into one gracious yearning for God’s mercy in the face of sin we cannot take away. And in that moment is a holy place and a holy conversation. And, in that moment, God’s kingdom comes in a very small way. You, God’s people are alive, singing the song of Zion as best they can with words that are more frustrated than sentimental , more grasping than glorious. Gods people pray for His mercy and for His kingdom to come.

So, no matter where you are, when you are in that prayer, you are near, very near, the heart of Your Savior. And that is the privilege of prayer to Our Father.