Genesis 15:1-21 | Walk Down the Aisle

Introduction: Trusting God in Discouragement

If you have a Bible, go and grab it and turn to the book of Genesis, chapter 15. We're continuing our series through this very first book of the Bible. If you don't own a Bible, you could use the pew Bible in front of you, or feel free to keep it if you'd like a copy of God's Word for yourself. The big numbers are the chapter numbers, the little numbers are the verse numbers. We'll be looking at the whole chapter of Genesis 15. I'll be reading from verse 1 to verse 21.

After these events, the word of the Lord came to Abram in a vision:Do not be afraid, Abram. I am your shield;your reward will be very great. But Abram said, “Lord God, what can you give me, since I am childless and the heir of my house is Eliezer of Damascus?” Abram continued, “Look, you have given me no offspring, so a slave born in my house will be my heir.” Now the word of the Lord came to him: “This one will not be your heir; instead, one who comes from your own body will be your heir.” He took him outside and said, “Look at the sky and count the stars, if you are able to count them.” Then he said to him, “Your offspring will be that numerous.” Abram believed the Lord, and he credited it to him as righteousness. He also said to him, “I am the Lord who brought you from Ur of the Chaldeans to give you this land to possess.” But he said, “Lord God, how can I know that I will possess it?” He said to him, “Bring me a three-year-old cow, a three-year-old female goat, a three-year-old ram, a turtledove, and a young pigeon.” So he brought all these to him, cut them in half, and laid the pieces opposite each other, but he did not cut the birds in half. Birds of prey came down on the carcasses, but Abram drove them away. As the sun was setting, a deep sleep came over Abram, and suddenly great terror and darkness descended on him. Then the Lord said to Abram, “Know this for certain: Your offspring will be resident aliens for four hundred years in a land that does not belong to them and will be enslaved and oppressed. However, I will judge the nation they serve, and afterward they will go out with many possessions. But you will go to your ancestors in peace and be buried at a good old age. In the fourth generation they will return here, for the iniquity of the Amorites has not yet reached its full measure.” When the sun had set and it was dark, a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch appeared and passed between the divided animals. On that day the Lord made a covenant with Abram, saying, “I give this land to your offspring, from the Brook of Egypt to the great river, the Euphrates River: the land of the Kenites, Kenizzites, Kadmonites, Hethites, Perizzites, Rephaim, Amorites, Canaanites, Girgashites, and Jebusites.” — Genesis 15:1-21 (CSB)

Let's pray. Lord, even this morning, many of us can be filled with questions. We ask, Lord, that your Word would speak to us and settle the terror in our hearts with the truth of your Word. We pray this in Jesus' name. Amen.

Have you ever been discouraged? The Christian life comes with different hills and valleys. Sometimes you come to church and it sounds like everything is just winning all the time. You sing songs about how Christ purchased the victory for you. You get to hear sermons talking about the grace and hope that we find in Christ. But what do you do when your experience is full of darkness and discouragement, with repetitious reminders over and over again showing you the world seems to be filled with hopelessness?

Sometimes even the season of Christmas can feel dissonant in light of all the dark experiences we have to face week after week. In the last few weeks, we've seen Abram receive an amazing promise from the Lord—a place, a people, and power. And we've seen Abram fail and fall into sin, as well as be faithful and conquer his enemies. Abram, in many ways, functions like an example for us as we seek to be faithful to what the Lord has called us to do.

But what do we do when our experience, or even what we feel inside, doesn't seem to match with what the Lord told us? What do we do when we're discouraged? How does God respond to our doubt? To a dark fear that seems to encroach in our hearts and minds and doesn't seem to leave? What we find in Genesis 15 is that God responds with truth and with grace. Abram asks God, "How can I know?" Have you ever wondered that? "How can I know your promises are true?" And God gives him his Word, and he gives him a covenant.

This is going to be our main idea for us this morning: to trust in the Lord's covenant—the covenant that he makes with Abram, that he makes with you and me. We'll look at three things: First, we'll take a look at the Lord's promise that he gives Abram. Second, we'll look at the Lord's proof—the proof for that promise. And third, we'll look at the Lord's providence, his control over all things.

The Lord's Promise: God as Our Shield

Let's start with point number one: The Lord's Promise. Read with me from verse one. "After these events, the word of the Lord came to Abram in a vision: 'Do not be afraid, Abram. I am your shield; your reward will be very great.'"

After Abram has conquered the four mighty Canaanite kings that we saw last week, he returns home and the word of the Lord comes to Abram. The first thing God tells Abram is not to be afraid, which makes a lot of sense because Abram had a lot of reasons to be afraid. After all, if you've just conquered the greatest kings in your land with 318 men and you went away with all of their stuff, you have become public enemy number one. Abram sits in a foreign land with foreign riches in his mid-80s. "Heavy is the head that wears the crown."

And God tells Abram, "Don't be afraid." Just like that, all of Abram's doubts just evaporated away. No, that's not what happens, right? In fact, words like "Don't be afraid" often aren't that comforting for us, are they? "Don't be afraid" doesn't give you a new job. "Don't be afraid" doesn't undo a doctor's diagnosis. "Don't be afraid" doesn't magically fix all of your familial tension. What good are words when words don't do anything?

The way that words reassure us isn't just in the content of the words themselves; it's not just about what they say, but the speaker of the words. See, when God says, "Don't be afraid," what he's saying isn't so much just a command for you to obey, but a reminder of who he is. Think about a child who gets hurt. When a parent picks them up and holds them in their arms, does holding a child change their physical state or stop the joint from hurting? No, the thing that happened happened. They fell flat on their face and they have a bruise on their forehead, like I did when I was seven. That didn't change; I still had swelling. But what makes them feel better? It's the trust in their parents, the tangible reminder of their love and care for them, letting them let go of their fears and bury them into their parents' chest.

That's exactly what God wants Abram to do. Did you notice that God doesn't give Abram a motivational speech about how everything is going to turn out better in the end? He doesn't gas him up with self-encouragement to boost his self-esteem by telling him what a great Hebrew he is. He doesn't even tell Abram, "Hey man, I've been there. You'll get through this." God doesn't base his encouragement to Abram on Abram at all; he places it on himself. He tells Abram, "Don't be afraid because I am your shield." What does a shield do? It doesn't get rid of the attacks, but it blocks them; it absorbs the blows. And God promises Abram the same. The hope that you and I have isn't found in our ability or our own competence, but in the reliable protection of your loving God. When you speak to other Christians and they share their difficulties with you, don't just give them your sympathy or your compassion. Certainly give them that, but give them more: give them truth; give them God.

Abram's Doubt and Righteousness by Faith

God reminds Abram that his reward will be very great. But even as Abram hears those words, doubt swells in his heart. You can see that in verse 2: "But Abram said, 'Lord God, what can you give me, since I am childless and the heir of my house is Eliezer of Damascus?' Abram continued, 'Look, you have given me no offspring, so a slave born in my house will be my heir.'"

Abram knows the stark contrast between the promises God has been giving and the state of his circumstances. What is the point of having all of this reward, all of this stuff, all these riches, if there's no one to give it to? He's 85. "I got all of these riches and they're just going to go to my slave." Did you notice what Abram does here? He looks with his eyes, just like Lot did, just like Eve did—not at all that the Lord has done, but all that he hasn't done. As we learned from the last few weeks, looks can be deceiving, can't they? When we base God's faithfulness on what he's doing for us right now in this immediate moment, we don't allow God to do things in ways that you and I don't understand. We expect the Lord to follow our plans, our wants, our comforts. And when we do that, we aren't really submitting to the Lord; we're expecting the Lord to submit to us. I mean, let's be honest, if we could have things our way, would we have any discomfort in our life? Never, right? It would be called "The Rise and Rise of John Lee." And yet, the Lord in his providence allows even dark things to happen according to his good will, ultimately for our own good.

Now, I don't think Abram here is so much demanding that God do something right then in that moment, as much as he's sharing his heart because Abram is discouraged. I mean, it's almost unbelievable that he'd be discouraged. Imagine going out to battle with 300 men against legions of other nations' armies and conquering all of those people. But what happens after that victory? After the adrenaline drains from his brain, after the excitement dies off and the new status quo begins, and he gets up and leaves his tent in the new morning, he looks around and he's asking himself, "Okay, now what?"

It is super normal to doubt after a great victory, to feel a sense of discouragement even after God does something absolutely remarkable in your life. It's so normal that even prophets in the Bible struggle with the exact same thing. If you want to read something that might encourage you in the afternoon, read 1 Kings 18. Elijah has his famous showdown at Mount Carmel against the prophets of Baal in this chapter. God literally rains down fire from the heavens that consumes an altar. And then Elijah leads the people of Israel in pursuit of these prophets of Baal, and they kill them all. It's an amazing victory for the Lord—a testament to his power and the boldness, confidence, and conviction of a prophet of God.

And what happens immediately after is that Queen Jezebel sends a messenger to Elijah saying:

“May the gods punish me and do so severely if I don’t make your life like the life of one of them by this time tomorrow!” — 1 Kings 19:2 (CSB)

You can just imagine the irony of something like that. Elijah just saw God rain down hellfire literally, but 1 Kings says that Elijah became afraid and ran for his life. He runs to the wilderness, he sits under a tree, and his prayer is that he might die. He said, "I have had enough. Lord, take my life, for I'm no better than my ancestors." And the Lord doesn't rebuke him. Instead, he feeds him, takes care of Elijah; he sustains him by his grace.

That is a normal Christian experience, to go from the highs of God's faithfulness to the lows of our own discouragement, to enter into the valley of the darkness of the shadow of death. That's why the Psalms are full of God's words, helping us to articulate the tension that we feel in our heart between what we've said and heard that God would do—even the things that we see that God does—and the darkness that we see all around us and in our hearts. And God responds with gracious patience and love. It's exactly what he does for Abram here as well in verse 4: "Now the word of the Lord came to him: 'This one will not be your heir; instead, one who comes from your own body will be your heir.' He took him outside and said, 'Look at the sky and count the stars, if you are able to count them.' Then he said to him, 'Your offspring will be that numerous.' Abram believed the Lord, and he credited it to him as righteousness."

What does it mean for Abram to be credited as righteous? It means that the righteousness Abram receives is not on the basis of who he is, or what Abram does, or what he will do, but on the faith that he has. The true belief that he had in God results in righteousness being credited to him; he's being considered righteous. It's the same word that's used in the book of Leviticus when it talks about a system of sacrifices and being considered guilty until you offer these sacrifices to God.

The way that people were saved back in the days of Abram are actually the same as the way that people are saved today. You are saved by faith, not based on what you do. The way that Abram is saved is the same way that Abram is *safe*—not based on who he is, but who God is and what God does. This is good news for you and me as well. The main message of Christianity teaches us that there is nothing that you and I can do on our own to make ourselves right with God. You can give your best your whole life, and you will still be afraid. Ask a Muslim if they know for certain that they follow the five pillars well enough to be right before their God. Ask anyone who tries to live a righteous life whether they really think in the bottom of their heart that they've actually been good enough to know for certain that God would actually love you and forgive you and let you into heaven.

What the Gospel gives you and me is certainty that we can actually stand before a holy God. Because what protects you and I against the judgment of God that we deserve isn't anything that we do, but God himself being our shield. Jesus paying that wrath, paying the penalty for the punishment that you and I deserve on his shoulders, dying the death that you and I deserve, and rising from the dead, showing that that payment is made in full and that that payment for sin can be credited to you as righteousness. We'll talk more about that later. And so Abram hears God's promises to him and he believes him. And God, seeing that faith, then credits it to him as righteousness.

The Lord's Proof: A Covenant of Grace

It'd be incredible if that passage ended there—sounds like a typical conversion story. And yet, even after his amazing promise, even after staring at the universe and the millions of stars in the galaxy, he still is not absolutely certain. And so, he asks God for validation; he asks him for proof. This brings us to point number two: The Lord's Proof.

Look at verse 7: "He also said to him, 'I am the Lord who brought you from Ur of the Chaldeans to give you this land to possess.' But he said, 'Lord God, how can I know that I will possess it?' He said to him, 'Bring me a three-year-old cow, a three-year-old female goat, a three-year-old ram, a turtledove, and a young pigeon.' So he brought all these to him, cut them in half, and laid the pieces opposite each other, but he did not cut the birds in half. Birds of prey came down on the carcasses, but Abram drove them away. As the sun was setting, a deep sleep came over Abram, and suddenly great terror and darkness descended on him."

Abram asked God, "How can I know? How can I actually know that I'm going to possess this land?" And God responds not by giving him another plan, but by giving him another tangible image—not of everything that Abram would receive, like the stars in the sky when it comes to counting these people, but a tangible image of what the Lord would do, of his own provision. The word here is that he cuts a covenant or makes a covenant with Abram. He tells Abram to gather these animals, cut them in half (except for the small birds, most likely because they're small birds, right?), and then Abram falls asleep. Darkness descends. Abram's heart trembles in fear. And then God appears in verse 17.

When the sun had set and it was dark, a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch appeared and passed between the divided animals. — Genesis 15:17 (CSB)

In the midst of this darkness, God introduces light. He shows up in the form of a smoking firepot (emphasis on the smoke) and a flaming torch (emphasis on the fire), and passed between the divided animals. Now, anyone who's taken Old Testament with Jeff Mui, like these interns here, knows that a covenant is a quasi-legal agreement that more narrowly defines a pre-existing relationship. See, that might have just gone over your heads. Here's my point: a covenant is not the same thing as a contract.

A contract is usually a written agreement regarding conditions that both parties would meet. It's designed for mutual benefit; it's a transactional relationship. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. I provide this thing, you provide me this amount of money. That is not what happens with a covenant. A covenant is not about the mutually agreed terms of the contract or what you do for each other; it's about binding these two parties together. It's the giving of oneself.

The closest parallel that exists in our society today would be marriage, right? Can you really encapsulate the magnitude of marriage by talking about your bank accounts, or by raising children, or the marriage bed? Those things are certainly involved in the covenant, but marriage is bigger than all of those things because the covenant of marriage is about you giving all of yourself to another person completely. "All that I am, richer for poorer, in sickness and in health." God takes one man and one woman, makes them one in the covenant of marriage. The groom stands at the altar; the wife walks down the aisle. They give oneself to each other.

Now God is not becoming one with Abram in the same sense; his "walking down the aisle" is a little different. But he is absolutely committing himself to Abram. Not only is he committing himself to Abram, he's also taking the burden of the covenant on his own shoulders. As he walks through the divided animals, he is stating that the burden—the punishment of breaking this covenant—lies on himself.

Do you realize that God's promises are not contingent on you? Now, I'm not saying that God doesn't desire obedience, or that in a general sense God rewards those who are faithful, or that a true faith doesn't include works. We know that's true; a true faith always has works. You see that in James, in the passage that we read this morning. What I mean is that for those of us that are in Christ, the covenant of salvation is not based on what you get to do for God, but on what God has done for you. The confidence that we bring into our relationship with God is not our track record of faithfulness, but God's example of faithfulness towards us.

It's no wonder that when darkness descends and terror overwhelms Abram, the thing that calms his nerves is not a vision of his future victory or a vision of his own good works that he'll do in the future, but a vision of God making a covenant of grace with him. He sees God represented in a smoking firepot and this torch as he passes through these animals, that the security that would relieve his burden wouldn't be found in his own ability but found in God's own Word, his own promise. Our hope isn't found inside of us, but by looking outside, looking into the darkness and seeing God's light that takes our burdens and carries us through the night. The hope of the covenant is what assures Abram in the midst of his terror and darkness. And that hope then expands from Abram to all of his children.

The Lord's Providence and Patient Judgment

Our third point: The Lord's Providence. Look at verse 13. Let me just read this whole section for us so we get a picture of what God's doing. He falls asleep. Great terror comes upon him. And then, from verse 13:

Then the Lord said to Abram, “Know this for certain: Your offspring will be resident aliens for four hundred years in a land that does not belong to them and will be enslaved and oppressed. However, I will judge the nation they serve, and afterward they will go out with many possessions. But you will go to your ancestors in peace and be buried at a good old age. In the fourth generation they will return here, for the iniquity of the Amorites has not yet reached its full measure.” When the sun had set and it was dark, a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch appeared and passed between the divided animals. On that day the Lord made a covenant with Abram, saying, “I give this land to your offspring, from the Brook of Egypt to the great river, the Euphrates River: the land of the Kenites, Kenizzites, Kadmonites, Hethites, Perizzites, Rephaim, Amorites, Canaanites, Girgashites, and Jebusites.” — Genesis 15:13-21 (CSB)

God doesn't just give Abram the image of the firepot and flaming torch, but clear guidance in terms of what will happen in the future. The experience of terror and darkness wouldn't just be something that Abram would experience, but something that his kids would experience too. That they, like Abram, would be foreigners in Egypt. That they'll be enslaved and oppressed for 400 years, and their hope won't be in their own capability, but what God would do for them.

Can you start to see why this would be important for Moses to write down? Why he would want the Israelites to be hearing this as Moses recounts their history back to them in this book as they wander through the wilderness before they go into the promised land? As they recall the darkness of slavery in Egypt, they would know that God has made a promise—more than a promise—he's made a covenant with them to bring them into this land and give them peace. In fact, this promise is formatted just like the Exodus: they are enslaved and oppressed, they are in a dark and destitute state, and then God passes through the divide with smoke and fire, which looks awfully close to crossing the Red Sea, being led by a pillar of cloud (think about the smoke and the fire with the torch) and leads them through into the land. God is giving Abram a symbolic preview of the redemption that he would provide for all of Abram's children through the Exodus.

And that would give them the land of the Kenites, Kenizzites, Kadmonites, Hethites, Perizzites, Rephaim, Amorites, Canaanites, Girgashites, and Jebusites. That is a lot of "ites!" That's a lot of nations being destroyed. Joshua recounts the battles that they have; they look absolutely gruesome. "Show them no mercy." Are the Israelites justified to go in and take these lands that historically belong to these nations? Oftentimes we would say no. I watched recently the Ken Burns documentary on the American Revolution, and one of the things I never knew is that one of the reasons why the American colonists wanted to rebel against Britain wasn't just for the quest of liberty, but because they wanted to take more Native American territory, and Britain wouldn't let them. Is this the same situation? Is this the Israelites taking land that they shouldn't be taking from them? I don't think so at all.

Because their conquest isn't saying that they deserve the land because they are better than the Canaanites, or because they have more weaponry, or because they are entitled to it because of who they are and they love to subject other people to their power. The reason why the Israelites are to take this land is because, according to verse 16, "the sins of the Amorites have not yet reached their full measure." See, for the Christian evaluating the wickedness of the Canaanites—child sacrifice, exploitation, sexual abuse, idolatry—the question shouldn't be whether or not their destruction is justified, but why God wouldn't judge them sooner.

Haven't you ever wondered why God doesn't just judge wickedness right away when it happens? You see news reports about Brown University or Bondi Beach. Why would God allow those kinds of evils to happen in this world? There are a lot of different answers, a lot of different parts and angles that are involved in answering that question. I don't have time to unpack it all this morning. But one part of God's permitting of evil in this world that isn't a sign of his approval or his indifference, but that allowing evil in this world is an example of his patience.

His patience. See, if God were to judge all of the wicked right now, the whole earth would be dead. It says here that "the sins of the Amorites have not yet reached its full measure." The image I use for that is like standing in a water park and seeing the bucket that towers above you as a steady trickle of water goes into it until it fills up to the brim, and then it flips, dumping water all over you. God wants Abram to see that the sins of the people in the lands around him are not going unnoticed, but that God is storing up judgment for these people and they will be poured out in judgment over them.

This is not an example of God not caring about evil. And this isn't an example of God being cruel in killing nations. This is an example of God's extraordinary patience and his precise, deliberate judgment of evil. That's why God still allows evil in this world: because of his patience. And at the same time, that judgment is being stored up and will be poured out when he comes again to judge the living and the dead. The evil will be thrown into everlasting hell forever. And at the same time, if you think that's unfair, there is not a single person in hell that didn't choose to be there. No one there that didn't deserve it.

Do you want a reason to be fearful? Be a sinner who has to stand before a living God who knows exactly who you are, who knows everything you have ever done. None of us who saw a highlight reel of the Amorites would have any question why God would tell the Israelites to show them no mercy. If we had to see a highlight reel of our own life, we would likely say the same: all the things we've done, all the things that you and I deserve—a good God would rightly judge us for the sins that we commit.

Christ: Our Covenant and Final Hope

See, the covenant that Abram receives isn't just a covenant for the Israelites. The only hope that you and I can have in the face of that kind of judgment is if the words and the promise that Abram receives also applies to you. When death, the deepest sleep, the final darkness descends on you—when you feel the breath leave your lungs for the last time and darkness covers your eyes and the terror of death sweeps over you—what hope will you have? What would cause you to be able to stand before a holy God?

If your hope is to distract yourself with current comforts, to doomscroll, or to rush to the most tantalizing sin that's most immediately in front of your face, if you assume that you're okay just because nothing hasn't happened yet, you will receive the full measure of God's wrath. But for those of us who follow our father Abraham, who do what he did, our hope is not in who we are or what we do or what we get away with, but in what Christ did.

Did you know that the Israelites have a festival every year called the Feast of Booths or of Shelters? In this festival, what they would do is they would celebrate the Exodus. They would live in different boxes outside, remembering how they were wanderers and sojourners in a foreign land. And they would have torches that would light the way, and it would all lead to this one giant torch, kind of like the Olympics, this beginning. As they looked at the great flame that was existing in the middle of their city, they would think about how God led them with a pillar of cloud and a pillar of fire through the darkness of the night.

And in John 8, Jesus stands up in that festival and he declares:

“I am the light of the world. Anyone who follows me will never walk in the darkness but will have the light of life.” — John 8:12 (CSB)

And as he looks at the hypocritical teachers, these Jewish teachers of the law, he tells them:

“If you were Abraham’s children,” Jesus told them, “you would do what Abraham did. Your father Abraham rejoiced to see my day; he saw it and was glad.” — John 8:39, 56 (CSB)

And:

“Truly I tell you, before Abraham was, I am.” — John 8:58 (CSB)

Because Jesus is the smoking firepot and the flaming torch. He took the burden of the covenant on his own shoulders by paying for our sins on the cross. His body was divided, torn in two, bearing the punishment of the covenant that's broken. And because of his work, because of his covenant with us, you and I don't have to feel the great terror of the darkness of death. Hebrews 10 tells us that we enter through the curtain of his flesh into the heavenly temple. You enter through Christ's body. And the only way that you and I can enter through Christ's body is if Christ's body was torn for you. We enter through his flesh. That sharing in Christ's death means that we will also share in his resurrection life.

You can trust in that promise today. You can trust in that in the midst of discouragement, that the hope that you have is far greater than anything that you can possibly mess up. Even the greatest problems of this world are going to be solved when Jesus comes and makes everything sad, untrue. If you need a tangible picture to be able to believe that, look no further than the sign of the covenant that you and I have: look at the cross. Look at Jesus's body broken for you, his blood spilled for you. Find real hope in a real solution that takes all our sin away. And when the darkness of death washes over you and that great terror strikes your heart, you can trust him. Even as the sun of life sets, because of Christ's covenant, you can know that even as you stare into the darkness of death itself, light will appear because you will see Jesus. He'll bring you safely home.

Let's pray. Lord, we pray that you would help us to be able to trust in this good promise that you've given us. Help us to trust in this covenant. Thank you, Lord, that this promise is far greater than our own ability, that we can see Jesus and find hope for all we need. Pray, Lord, that you would help us to hang on to those promises this morning for the rest of our lives. We pray this in Jesus' name. Amen.