Don't Judge a Book By its Cover

When I was younger I had a very odd habit of judging people in the Bible.

This first happened when I was reading about Hagar. The worldly side of me saw her as “the other woman.” I didn’t like her. She slept with another woman’s husband and that was enough for me. She deserved the scorn she got from Sarah.

In Bible study we’ve spent the past semester looking at various women in the Bible and at the end of the study (last week) we were asked to pick our favorite. And it was no question for me. I loved their stories, and was challenged and convicted by all of them, all of the women's weaknesses, disobedience, obedience, and faith. But Hagar stuck out to me the most. Maybe it was guilt for thinking so little of her for so long, but Hagar’s story has quickly become one of my all-time Bible favorites. Here’s why…

Hagar was mysterious. And her story doesn’t make sense.

You see, with Hagar, the only way to see her is to understand that she was invisible. Hagar was a slave, which means no one knows anything about her. Nobody knows where she came from (although some believe Gen 12:16 shows she may have been given to Abraham by Pharaoh), who her mother was, how she became a slave. Nothing. She was utterly alone. Once sold into slavery she lost her friends and family. She lost all those who had been a witness to her life. She literally became invisible.

I judged Hagar for the sin of sleeping with a married man, not giving a second thought to the fact that as a slave she could not have denied Sarah’s request to bear Abraham a child. As a servant, even her body was not her own. Invisible.

--I think it’s also important to note (although it doesn’t go with my invisibility motif) that while it was culturally acceptable for Sarah to “take” Hagar and “give” her to Abraham, this does not seem to be acceptable in God’s eyes. Biblical scholar Carolyn Custis James shrewdly points out that the language in this exchange matches that of the scenario in Eden when Eve “takes” the apple and “gives” it to Adam.--

Hagar becomes pregnant and then scorns Sarah. She does sin here. There’s no doubt. After being invisible her whole life Hagar becomes prideful knowing that she now has some social standing bearing Abraham’s offspring. And her pride then sets off Sarah, who lashes back in a violent rage. But Sarah takes no responsibility for her own wrongdoing throughout the story. Hagar’s sin does not go unnoticed, but Hagar herself still does. Fearing for her life she runs into the dark wilderness and fades into the black. Invisible once more.

Then, things change. The angel of the Lord found Hagar (Gen 16:7), proving the truth in Paul’s later words “there is neither Jew nor Gentile, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:28). (Hagar was a Gentile, a slave, and a woman). And he said to her, “Hagar, servant of Sarai, where have you come from, and where are you going?” (Gen 16:8). Not even Sarah or Abraham would call her by name, and here the angel of the Lord does. She isn’t invisible anymore.

And here’s my second favorite part of the whole story. God calls her to go back to Sarah. This had to be a terrifying command to Hagar. She didn’t just run away for the fun of it, she fled Sarah in fear of her life, and here God calls her to return. What a humbling reminder that sometimes God calls us to do things that go against the grain of our own hearts. Going back doesn’t make sense. And that’s what I love about our God and living for Him. Following God sometimes means living in ways that don’t make sense to the rest of the world. Sometimes it means returning to difficult and uncertain situations in faith, when the rest of the world tells you you’re crazy and that it’s unsafe. Some call it stupid, I call it brave.

Hagar then becomes the first (and only) person in all of scripture to name God, El Roi, “The God who sees me.” She may have been invisible to the rest of the world, but she was not invisible to God.

And my favorite part. God not only calls, Hagar listens. She returns to Sarah, the same woman who threatened her life, the woman who had wronged her more than probably anyone else in her life. A life of slavery and in her first free act Hagar chooses to obey God.

So why send her back? God was blessing Hagar. The answer is found in one of my favorite quotes, “God doesn’t call us to himself without also calling us to his people. It is a mixed blessing for all of us, for the church isn’t always the safest place. The people there aren’t necessarily the ones we would choose for our friends, and sadly, some of our most painful wounds come from our relationships with other believers. But these are the people we need and who also need us. We come to know God better and grow stronger as Christians when we are joined to the community of his people and we work together to know him.”

It’s easy to run away from our problems. As a counselor-in-training I see this all the time. Most people would rather avoid pain than face it. They'd rather stay in the wilderness than return to a friend, family member, roommate, or discipler who hurt them. As Christians we do it, too. Rather than reconciling when a loved one wounds us, too often we turn our backs and walk away. Hell-bent on vengeance rather than heaven-sent forgiveness. I love the example Hagar gives us to help foster true Christian community, I love that she follows God above her own feelings and fears.

And I love that it doesn’t matter that in the end she is sent away by Sarah a second time. Some may question, “Why did God want her to return to Sarah only to be sent away a second time? The Lord finds her weeping in the wilderness once more, isn’t that cruel?” No. Following God doesn’t mean we won’t have pain, or heart ache, or that we won’t weep. It just means it will be worth it.

If we make our decisions in life based off the fear of getting hurt, we're living selfishly. We should make our decisions in light of what is most glorifying to God, not most glorifying to ourselves.

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In selfish pride, I’ve spent a good deal of my life wishing people saw me. I pray to follow Hagar’s example and find satisfaction and delight in God alone. Not in the approval of men, but in the approval of God. El Roi. The God who sees me. Nobody else's eyes matter. Not even my own, after all, Hagar was invisible to me at first, too.

Apple Pie a la Mode

About four years ago a line was said in a TV show that I have never forgotten. A young woman was in the hospital, and she wasn’t going to make it. Her fiancé was on his way, but she wasn't going to make it in time to say goodbye to him. The doctor asked her if there was anything he could say to the fiancé when he arrived. She said this, “Tell him that if love were enough, I’d still be here.”

This was super poetic, and sounded beautiful, but I wanted to scream. That one line shattered all my childhood dreams and ideals about relationships. And while it seems a little pathetic, I have spent the last four years wrestling with the weight of that idea.

At that point in my life (when I first watched this episode) I believed in God’s idea of love, but still preferred Disney’s take on things. I thought I’d meet a boy, fall in love, get married, and we’d live happily ever after. We’d have the usual spousal spats, but nothing else. He’d never cheat on me, never yell at me, never do anything wrong, because he would love me, and his love for me would be so great that it would dissolve any temptation of wrong in marriage. His love for me would be enough.

Eventually I grew, and my view of God matured. I was weaned off my spiritual milk, but I’m pretty sure I wasn’t up to solid food yet (Hebrews 5:11-5:14). I call it my ice cream phase. Then, I thought my story would go like this: I’d meet a Jesus-lovin’ boy, fall in love, get married, and we’d live happily ever after. We’d have the usual spousal spats, but nothing else. He’d never cheat on me, never yell at me, never do anything wrong, because he would love Jesus, and his love for Jesus would be so great that it would dissolve any temptation of wrong in marriage. His love for Christ would be enough.

But milk spoils and ice cream melts.

About a month ago I had grown enough to endure my first taste of solid food. So I bit into the apple and my eyes were opened (Genesis 3:7). If it is God’s will, I will meet a Jesus-lovin’ boy, fall in love, get married, and live joyfully ever after. We’d have the usual spousal spats, but we’d have other hurts, too. Marrying the most God-fearing man doesn’t mean he’ll never hurt me or sin in the marriage (I’ll be guilty of both, too), it just means that we can get through it if we’re both seeking the Lord, together and apart. Just like Adam and Eve when they ate the apple, we are sinful at the core (no pun intended). And because of that, love isn’t enough. Only Christ is. He can take our sin and use it for His glory.

I think the greatest example of this is Sarah and Abraham. If I asked most people the first word that comes to mind when they think of either of these people, most would say “faithful.” We hold them in high regard as a Godly couple we should all strive to imitate. This seems ironic to me when I look at their whole story.This isn’t to say they weren’t faithful, they were. Sarah continued her faith in the Lord despite 24 years of barrenness and silence from the Lord. Abraham repeatedly went to dangerous plays as God called him, and Sarah followed, putting herself in danger to save Abraham not once, but twice. That’s incredible. And I'm fairly certain my faith would look like a mustard seed compared to theirs.

But shortly after all that, things start to fall apart. Abraham protects himself and Sarah ends up in the Pharoah’s harem.(Granted culture makes this all a little different) But then Sarah comes up with the plan for Abraham to sleep with Hagar and bear a child with her since Sarah cannot give him a child of her own. Tragically, Abraham consents. Hagar does bear a child, but an ungodly display of anger and abuse ensues between Hagar and Sarah.

This seems very dark and twisty. They’re parts of the Bible we like to gloss over, particularly when we’re talking about “giants of faith” like Sarah and Abraham. At the same time, this part of Sarah and Abraham’s story is probably the most encouraging part to me. Like so many Old Testament characters (and NT characters for that matter), these two are sinful people who make mistakes. And continue to make them. There were times Sarah should have submitted to Abraham and she didn’t. There were times she shouldn’t have submitted to him and she did.

Praise God the Bible is full of flawed individuals. Praise God that He takes imperfect people and for His glory, somehow manages to salvage their stories and turn them into giants of faith. Sarah and Abraham remind us how hard it is to trust God when everything is going wrong and hope is lost. Even the strongest stumble and fall… and bite into apples.

Walking with God doesn’t spare us from hard decisions, nor does it guarantee we’ll always make the right choice. Our lives are full of well-intentioned mistakes and outright sin.Our redemption is Christ. And so it will be the same in relationships, and in my musings, marriage.

It’s hard to have one’s eyes opened and see the sin of this world. It’s humbling, and it makes eating apples a little bittersweet.

To remedy this, I add cinnamon, turn my apples into pie, and always make sure to have ice cream on top and a cold glass of milk on the side. Apple pie is best served a la mode.

*****

Epilogue: After four years I finally understand the saying, “If love were enough, I’d still be here.” I’ve now realized this goes far beyond the bounds of romantic relationships. After all, if love were enough, wouldn’t He still be here?