Abraham: Called by Faith to Bless Nations | Advent Day 4

The tower at Babel collapsed into confusion. Humanity scattered across the earth, divided by language and geography. The nations went their separate ways, each following gods of their own making. The unity of Eden lay shattered. The violence of Noah's day threatened to repeat. Creation needed a fresh start. God chose one man. From a city in Mesopotamia called Ur, the LORD spoke to a pagan named Abram. Joshua later records the uncomfortable truth. "Long ago, your fathers lived beyond the Euphrates, Terah the father of Abraham and of Nahor; and they served other gods." Abraham's family worshipped the deities of Babylon. He was not looking for the true God. The true God came looking for him. The command stripped Abraham of everything familiar. "Go from your country." Leave your land. "And your kindred." Leave your extended family. "And your father's house." Leave even your immediate relatives. "To the land that I will show you." Go somewhere I have not yet revealed. In the ancient world, land and family defined identity. Your ancestors' graves marked your home. Your clan determined your status. Your nation gave you meaning. God asked Abraham to abandon all three and become a wanderer, a stranger, a nobody from nowhere. At seventy-five years old, Abraham went. Jozsef Molnar painted this departure in 1850. The Hungarian artist placed Abraham at the head of a caravan moving toward the horizon. His posture shows determination. His gaze reaches beyond what the eye perceives. Sarah rides beside him. Servants, livestock, and possessions stretch behind. An entire household uproots because one man heard a voice. The landscape transitions from civilization to wilderness in Molnar's composition. Ur was no backwater. Archaeological excavations reveal a sophisticated city with ziggurats, libraries, and advanced mathematics. Abraham left running water for desert wells. He traded city walls for tent fabric. The promised land lay somewhere ahead, unnamed and unknown. But the promise itself blazed with glory. God spoke seven distinct statements to Abraham. "I will make of you a great nation." "I will bless you." "I will make your name great." "You will be a blessing." "I will bless those who bless you." "Him who dishonors you I will curse." And the climax: "In you all the families of the earth shall be blessed." Read this final promise carefully. All the families of the earth. Not one nation. Not one people group. Every family on the planet falls within the scope of this blessing. From the beginning, God planned to use Abraham's descendants to heal what went wrong at Babel. The scattering would become a gathering. The division would become a reunion. This is why the Gospel writers trace their lineage through Abraham. Matthew opens his account with "the book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham." The promise made to a tent-dweller in Mesopotamia reaches its fulfillment in the manger at Bethlehem. The blessing for all nations takes flesh and blood in one particular child. Years passed. Abraham grew old. Sarah remained barren. The great nation seemed impossible. Then God did something strange. He brought Abraham outside at night and told him to count the stars. "So shall your offspring be." The Hebrew word for "offspring" is the same "zera" from Genesis 3:15. The seed of the woman. The line continues through Abraham. The one who will crush the serpent's head will descend from this childless old man standing under the stars. And Abraham believed. Genesis 15:6 stands as a watershed in biblical theology. "He believed the LORD, and he counted it to him as righteousness." The apostle Paul returns to this verse repeatedly. Before circumcision existed. Before the Law was given at Sinai. Before any religious system was established. Abraham trusted God's word, and God credited this faith to his account as righteousness. The Hebrew verb translated "believed" is "aman." From this root we derive our word "Amen." To believe means to say Amen to God's promise. Abraham staked his entire existence on words spoken by a God he could not see about descendants he could not produce naturally. He rested his full weight on divine faithfulness. The word "counted" or "reckoned" uses accounting language. God entered faith in Abraham's ledger as righteousness. This was a gift, not a wage. Abraham earned nothing. He received everything. The old man looking at stars received the standing of a righteous man based purely on trust. Later that night, God sealed the covenant with a ceremony Abraham would never forget. Animals were cut in half. A smoking fire pot and flaming torch passed between the pieces. In ancient covenant rituals, both parties would walk through the divided animals, symbolically agreeing to the same fate if they broke their word. But only God passed through. Abraham watched. God alone took on the covenant obligation. What does this mean for you today? The same God who called a pagan from Babylon calls you. The same promise extends. Through Abraham's offspring, all nations receive blessing. You stand in the stream of what God began four thousand years ago. Three world religions claim Abraham as their father. Jews call him "our father Abraham." Muslims honor him as Ibrahim, the friend of God. Christians trace spiritual lineage through faith rather than blood. The tent-dweller who left Ur has more descendants than he could have numbered on the clearest night. Jesus told the Pharisees something astonishing. "Your father Abraham rejoiced that he would see my day. He saw it and was glad." The old man looking at stars glimpsed something beyond natural descendants. He saw the Star of Bethlehem rising on the horizon of history. This Advent, consider what God asks you to leave. What security does He call you to release? What familiar ground must you abandon for uncertain blessing? Abraham obeyed before he understood. He went before he knew the destination. Faith moves forward on the word of God alone. Tomorrow we witness a father's ultimate test on Mount Moriah. The promised son faces the knife. God provides a ram. And a mountain waits for another Father to sacrifice another Son two thousand years later.