Genesis 23:1-6: a reflection

1Sarah lived one hundred twenty-seven years. This was the length of Sarah’s life. 2Sarah died in Kiriath Arba (also called Hebron), in the land of Canaan. Abraham came to mourn for Sarah, and to weep for her. 3Abraham rose up from before his dead and spoke to the children of Heth, saying, 4“I am a stranger and a foreigner living with you. Give me a possession of a burying-place with you, that I may bury my dead out of my sight.” 5The children of Heth answered Abraham, saying to him, 6“Hear us, my lord. You are a prince of God among us. Bury your dead in the best of our tombs. None of us will withhold from you his tomb. Bury your dead.”

When Sarah dies, Abraham mourns and weeps for her, and then approaches the people of the land to ask for a burial place; and in his request he describes himself in a way that captures how he had lived: I am a stranger and a foreigner living with you. Though he had lived in the land for years, Abraham still regarded himself as a stranger and foreigner there, a sojourner, not fully at home. He held the land loosely, as one whose true home was elsewhere; even in burying his dead, he acted as a pilgrim in a land not truly his own.

Notice how Abraham described himself: a stranger and a foreigner. He had lived in the land a long time, and God had promised it to his descendants; yet he still regarded himself as a sojourner there, not fully at home, holding it loosely as one whose true home lay elsewhere. He lived as a pilgrim, a stranger passing through, not settling into the land as though it were his final home. His sense of himself was that of a sojourner, and it shaped how he held the things of this life, loosely, as one whose true home was with God, not fully invested in a land he passed through as a stranger.

That is worth taking to heart, for we too are called to live as pilgrims, strangers in this world whose true home is with God. We can settle into this world as though it were our final home, investing ourselves fully in it, forgetting that we are passing through; but Abraham lived as a stranger and foreigner, holding the land loosely, his true home elsewhere. We are pilgrims here, and this world is not our final home; our true home is with God. Do not settle into this world as though it were your final home, forgetting you are a pilgrim; live as a stranger passing through, holding its things loosely, your true home with God. Live as a pilgrim in this world, holding its things loosely and remembering your true home is with God, as Abraham called himself a stranger and foreigner in the land; for this world is not our final home, and we are sojourners here whose true and lasting home is with God.

Lord, when Sarah dies, Abraham mourns and weeps for her, and then approaches the people of the land to ask for a burial place; and in his request he describes himself in a way that captures how he had lived: I am a stranger and a foreigner living with you. Though he had lived in the land for years, Abraham still regarded himself as a stranger and foreigner there, a sojourner, not fully at home. He held the land loosely, as one whose true home was elsewhere. Show me how Abraham described himself: a stranger and a foreigner. He had lived in the land a long time, and you had promised it to his descendants; yet he still regarded himself as a sojourner there, holding it loosely as one whose true home lay elsewhere. He lived as a pilgrim, a stranger passing through, not settling into the land as though it were his final home. His sense of himself shaped how he held the things of this life, loosely, as one whose true home was with you. Take that to my heart, for I too am called to live as a pilgrim, a stranger in this world whose true home is with you. I can settle into this world as though it were my final home, investing myself fully in it, forgetting that I am passing through; but Abraham lived as a stranger and foreigner, his true home elsewhere. I am a pilgrim here, and this world is not my final home. Keep me from settling into this world as though it were my final home, forgetting I am a pilgrim; help me live as a stranger passing through, Lord, holding its things loosely, my true home with you.