This is the account of Terah’s family line. Terah became the father of Abram, Nahor and Haran. And Haran became the father of Lot. While his father Terah was still alive, Haran died in Ur of the Chaldeans, in the land of his birth. Abram and Nahor both married. The name of Abram’s wife was Sarai, and the name of Nahor’s wife was Milkah; she was the daughter of Haran, the father of both Milkah and Iskah. Now Sarai was childless because she was not able to conceive. Terah took his son Abram, his grandson Lot son of Haran, and his daughter-in-law Sarai, the wife of his son Abram, and together they set out from Ur of the Chaldeans to go to Canaan. But when they came to Harran, they settled there. Terah lived 205 years, and he died in Harran.

The Call of Abram

The Lord had said to Abram, “Go from your country, your people and your father’s household to the land I will show you. “I will make you into a great nation, and I will bless you; I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and whoever curses you I will curse; and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you.”

The story of Abram’s calling begins at the end of the line in a way. If you trace the descendants of Adam through Noah and then to Terah, the line of family was about to go out because Sarai, the daughter of the first-born of the last of Adam’s line was barren. While it had survived against great odds – it was about to be extinguished.

For 400 years between Noah’s covenant and Abram there had been no word from The Lord. “This is the sign of my covenant” and then silence for a half a millennium. I’ve wondered how they were able to live on so little from God when we expect to hear from Him all the time and in so many ways. Could we survive for any time at all if God were silent? I think not…and yet most of the saints talk about the times when God is silent. At least three times in Scripture God is silent for 400 years. Here, the sojourn in Egypt and between the end of the Old Testament and the beginning of the New Testament.

2.  It was the end of the line in another way as well.

Terah had set out for Canaan (11:31) but he had settled in Haran and died there. Life changed for Terah “on the way” to somewhere else.

Terah took the wheels off the mobile home and settled half-way there. It was not a detour or side road or wrong turn but a rest stop that became a residence.

There is a powerful urge to settle in, to find a comfortable place and still feel like you are “on the way”. You’ve just stopped for a bit. But that bit becomes a lifetime. I can imagine them after a while continuing to talk about the dream to reach Canaan or even reminiscing about Ur and saying, “Tomorrow or the next day we are going to get back on our way to Canaan. We’ve not stopped. We’re just taking a break.”

It reminds me of the lines in the Hobbit where Gandalf says to Bilbo Baggins: “I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, and it’s very difficult to find anyone.’
I should think so — in these parts! We are plain quiet folk and have no use for adventures. Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner!”

Haran was an interesting place. It was not out of the way or off the road. It was in the middle of everything. There was lots of activity with traders, travelers, new ideas, and interesting experiences. There was the illusion of going somewhere by constant exposure to people who were.

I think Abram grew up knowing his family was on the way to somewhere else when they settled in Haran. Do our kids wonder about our “Canaan”? We talk about where we came from but do we ever talk about where we are headed – what we dream about? Those things that we set out to do…and still think about even if we’ve settled in short of where we were headed. It’s more than a bucket list of experiences. It’s not longing after some great thing we had imagined we would accomplish. It is simply a destination to which we were headed.

The Death of My Father by Steve Martin

“In his early 80s, my father’s health declined further and he became bedridden. There must be an instinct about when the end is near, as we all found ourselves gathered at my parents’ home in Orange County, California. I walked into the house they had lived in for 35 years and my weeping sister said, “He’s saying goodbye to everyone.” A hospice nurse said to me, “This is when it all happens.” I didn’t know what she meant, but soon I did. I walked into the bedroom where he lay, his mind alert but his body failing. He said, almost buoyantly, “I’m ready now.” I understood that his intensifying rage of the last few years had been against death and now his resistance was abating. I stood at the end of the bed and we looked into each other’s eyes for a long, unbroken time. At last he said, “You did everything I wanted to do.” I said the truth: “I did it for you.” Looking back, I’m sure that we both had different interpretations of what I meant. I sat on the edge of the bed and another silence fell over us. Then he said, “I wish I could cry, I wish I could cry.” At first, I took this as a comment on his condition but am forever thankful that I pushed on. “What do you want to cry about?” I finally said. “For all the love I received and couldn’t return.” He had kept this secret, his desire to love his family, from me and from my mother his whole life. It was as though an early misstep had kept us forever out of stride. Now, two days from his death, our pace was aligning and we were able to speak.”

Haran is any place we park on the way to where we set out to go. It’s not disobedience like Babel. It’s just settling instead of going on. It may be psychological, spiritual, relational or any number of things but it is where we have stopped and stayed. It is those parts of our lives where we have settled for the least common denominator, the easier way, the compromised relationship and the satisfaction with leaving well enough alone.

3.  God calls Abram completely out of Haran.

Leave everything you know
Take everything you have
Start over at 75
And you will not be coming back.

God even underscores the difficulty. “Leave your country, your people and your father’s household and go to the land I will show you.” Later, he says to him, “Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains I will tell you about.” No sugar coating or comfort. No assurances. Just go.

He calls him to leave and follow – with no destination. Only when he is in Canaan does He give the promise. It is like Jesus’ words to the disciples or to the rich young man. “Sell everything, come and follow me.”

Most of us like to have a destination in mind – that is our definition of calling – but God sometimes asks us simply to follow with no other instructions.

Ironically, he takes him to the place his father was going and then takes him through it to somewhere else for years – Egypt. Later, he brings him back but Abram goes from place to place until he comes to Bethel – the place where he had started. God uproots Abram for most of his life.

Even then God tells him that this land will not be his but will belong to his offspring after they have been enslaved and mistreated for hundreds of years.

God’s perspective and ours are different. He thinks in generations. We want a satisfying life now and God is creating a legacy of which our life is a part – but not the whole. I used to think each of our lives has an independent story – unconnected to those who came before and those who follow. We each have our dream and individual call. To foist our dream on our children is wrong and to carry the burden of our parents’ unfulfilled dreams is as well. However, as I read this I realize our lives are not a collection of independent short stories. They are chapters in a larger novel that plays out over generations – each of us being connected and accountable to those who came before and those who follow. Our lives are not merely our own.

4.  Look at the four blessings of Abram. First, I will bless you. That is personal. Second, you will be a blessing. That is calling. Third, those who bless you will be blessed. That is relational. Fourth, all people will be blessed through you. That is universal.

Blessing still operates at those four levels today.

How do we normally of think of blessing? Finding a parking spot or our lives being made easier in some way. The word here is “barak” – to praise or to get a well-done. We should go to Matthew 25:14-21 to understand the idea of blessing.

The Parable of the Bags of Gold

“Again, it will be like a man going on a journey, who called his servants and entrusted his wealth to them. To one he gave five bags of gold, to another two bags, and to another one bag, each according to his ability. Then he went on his journey. The man who had received five bags of gold went at once and put his money to work and gained five bags more. So also, the one with two bags of gold gained two more. But the man who had received one bag went off, dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money. “After a long time the master of those servants returned and settled accounts with them. The man who had received five bags of gold brought the other five. ‘Master,’ he said, ‘you entrusted me with five bags of gold. See, I have gained five more.’  “His master replied, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!’

What is the reward? It is not an easier life, is it? It is being responsible for even more. That is a life that is blessed and continually growing and moving on. It is a life that moves forward with less baggage but more substance. For some, it will mean picking up everything like Abram and for others leaving everything behind like the rich young ruler.

5.  I love this story. It is a story that begins at a dead-end – a cul de sac. The lights are going out. The dream is dying. Yet, it concludes with the start of a new nation, a new people and the salvation of the world.

What happens when we settle in our Haran – the place we’ve parked and taken the wheels off the mobile home? What can happen when our children are called to get back on the road to where we were going? Our lives are connected and God’s mission takes longer than we could have imagined.

There are still more places that look like the end of the line in the story of Abram. The places that look like dead-ends – except to God.