Things that Should Not Be Done: Genesis 20

Genesis 20 is a good chapter to read, like, immediately after reading an extensive treatment of how Christians screwed over "heathens" -- man, if only this wasn't one of probably hundreds of books, each with that very theme, each with a different event in focus, right?

I think the tendency here is to look at Abraham's repeated failings towards God as failures of belief, or of faith, only: see, even the Godly mess up! But Abraham is not just sinning against God, here, but against those he's implicating by allowing them to run off with his wife. The moment of truth here, I think, is the moment who Abimelech goes to Abraham and tells him what every student of European and US history -- what any reader of the freaking newspaper -- has (hopefully) thought more than once: You have done to me things that should not be done.

And we've heard, too, the same response, over and over: But there's no fear of God in you. Sorry, I thought it didn't matter. Oops, my bad; since you don't know Jesus, I assumed you were going to bomb this plane. Since you worship the Earth, I figured you weren't fit to raise your own children; since you're from the Dark Continent, I figured you wouldn't mind if I raped your wife and enslaved your kids. Since you don't believe in God, there's really no point in feeding you/setting you free/curing your malaria/treating your HIV, right? We can't do anything for Those People, besides protect yourself from them. Often the closest to Christ we get is to feel sorry for the things evil has created in their lives -- not realizing that we are engaged in the system that is creating these evils, that their starvation is tied to our Caribbean cruise, our out-of season grapes, our SUV and McDonald's and excess. We are doing things that should not be done.

The list of things we, as Christians, did, that should not be done, is not only lengthy and egregious. It is contemporary. Current things I should not have done to non-believers:

blown off the drug addict wanting money like she wasn't there,
judged my friends for wanting nice things,
paid my credit card bill down while kids are starving,
skimped on tithe because, when it comes to it, I can't fully trust God,
tacitly endorsed an economy that blatantly wastes things that people need,
snapped at parents who had had a long day.

most painful, I've ignored:
homeless, the hungry, the sick, the jailed, the enslaved, the exploited, the oppressed, the widowed, the orphaned, the disenfranchised... those who believe differently and those who I don't understand. Because, whatever I say about why I'm doing this, at heart, my relationship with God is not right.

And it's here that I see this other prelude to the gospel: I mean, here's Abraham being and instrument of Abraham, and here's God, speaking through Abimelech -- the not-God-loving king with whom Abraham was afraid to just be straight. While Abraham was justifying why he had to lie to and endanger the ungodly, Abimelech was taking his cues from God. While the Jews/Pharisees/Evangelicals are praying comfortably before heading off to a pleasant meal, God is talking to those who are on the outside, who weren't raised in church but who can recognize His voice when they hear it.

Too often, the assumption that God only speak to and through Christians, per se, turns into a belief that God is only on the Christian's side -- so why listen to anyone else? I think you can recognize the presence of God in the lives of non-Christians without taking your focus off Jesus. It invites me, at least, to re-examine the idea that belief in Christ and access to God has to look a specific way. It's evident here that Abimelech is the one down with God; I wonder how many times its been Ghandi, or Malcolm, or Black Elk, hearing from God, and Abraham, or Nixon, or John Paul, drowning Him out. If there's one message that Christians (everyone) hates to hear, and that Christians, especially, need to here, it's this: you have done to me (are doing to me) things that should not be done.