Poker Faces, Eye Rolls, and God's Dream

The summer after graduating from college one of my best buddies—a guy named David—played in the World Series of Poker (WSOP) in Las Vegas, Nevada. One does not qualify for that tournament unless she or he wins a big tournament or pays the $10,000 entry fee on her or his own. For David to be there was a BIG DEAL! He had worked really hard in his limited free time to win his way to Vegas, while maintaining a stellar G.P.A. and getting a post-grad job at a big bank.

When I visited David that summer I recall talking to him a lot about the WSOP experience. He told me that it was not as glamorous as they make it seem on television. For twelve hours at a time the contestants compete. Quickly the adeptly skilled players force out the tourists only there to say that they had been. Eventually the run of the game whittles down many tables to a final table and finally one player winning the huge grand prize. David finished just outside the money, but he survived far longer than most, had a great time doing it, and will forever hold onto those memories.

Towards the end of our conversation he turned to me to say something odd. David said, “Seth, I think you would be really good at poker.” Before the words left his mouth, I laughed right in his face. While he remained complimentary I could not help but chuckle at his assessment. I am bad at calculating hands. I am worse at deciphering what other people’s faces may be saying. Worst of all I have a horrible poker face. Sometimes I can fake it until I make it, but mostly what you see is what you get. I might be as bad as Sarah was when the messengers visited Abraham and her at the Oaks of Mamre long ago.

I am so terrible at playing life with a poker face that I almost blew my opportunity at a first date with my now wife. Back when I was in seminary I worked as a night watchman. I went around locking up the doors on campus. One night I was tired and wanted nothing more than to quickly get back to my apartment to finish the hundreds of pages of reading assigned to me. When I went in to lock up the chapel a few students—including my future wife—were saying Compline. As they asked if we could come back later to lock the doors, I responded with the worst poker face possible. I dramatically rolled my eyes. I rolled my eyes with authority. I rolled my eyes, which Kim still reminds me of to this day. All worked out in the end, but there are certain moments when we cannot hide how we feel. Sometimes we cannot hide our sadness or joy or disbelief, so it was with Sarah when she laughed in God’s face.

Sarah was quite old. She was well passed the prime of child-bearing years. Others said she was barren. One day though as Abraham and Sarah sat in their tent avoiding the hot sun, God appeared to them. In that moment God appeared as three visitors. Abraham saw in the strangers the presence of God, so he went out to meet these visitors. He played the gracious host bowing before them, washing their feet, and fetching them quite a feast of bread, milk, curds, and meat with the help of his wife.

As the guests ate one asked where Sarah was. When Abraham pointed to the tent the guest said that one day they would return to find her with child. At this Sarah could not hide her poker face. She laughed out loud. All Sarah had wanted, the greatest pleasure she had hoped for in her life was always to bear life into this world and up until that moment it had always escaped her. Even the thought of such a dream coming true caused her to instinctively laugh uproariously. As she exited the tent, I imagine her upturned cheeks could not have contrasted more greatly than they did with the look on the face of the visitors.

The Lord present in those three knew the deep longing that lay within Sarah. Without so much as a smile the holy visitors wondered why she had laughed. Of course, we know why she laughed. She was passed her prime. The dream had died. She was to be surrogate mother to Ishmael—a powerful, mighty, and paramount purpose unto itself—but not what Sarah had always envisioned. And yet, the visitors persisted by asking, “Why did you laugh? Is anything too wonderful for the Lord?” Is anything too wonderful for our God?

In the deepest recesses of our souls those great dreams reside that we buried long ago. We concealed those dreams for an infinite number of reasons: it would be too impractical, I have children, there’s not enough money, I don’t have the time, we might have to move, my spouse might think I’m crazy, my friends would certainly think I’m crazy, I’m too old, I don’t have it in me, and on and on and on. We come up with a million reasons to bury our dreams—the true purposes of our lives. And, while we think that it hurts us what we never really think about is the look that Sarah saw on the face of the Lord—the same look that resides on God’s face when we dig the grave for another dream.

When we cast off our true callings in life, the greatest dreams that God gives to us within our hearts, we do not only affect ourselves, we also negatively impact those around us and the building up of God’s Kingdom. We cannot let our dreams die! These hopes are not only our own they are what God yearns for us to do, they are who God desires us to be to make this world more and more like how God dreams it can be. So, we must not think of it as only what we want, but what God purposes, like how Sarah’s child would be the first in a countless number of God’s faithful children.

Why must we not let our dreams die? For God utilizes our greatest hopes to transform this world into God’s way. To borrow Michael Curry’s line: “To turn this world from the nightmare it often is into what God dreams it can be.” How do we do this?

In the 15^th Century the iconographer Andrei Rublev painted or prayed one of the greatest religious pieces of artwork ever. The piece portrays the scene we read from Genesis today and is entitled The Hospitality of Abraham. In the work three visitors sit at a table. The power of the piece comes in that the figures lean in towards one another, but they also leave enough space for us to imagine ourselves within the space. This is the hope of our prayers to know more fully our place within God’s life in this world, God’s work in this world.

We must not let our dreams die, for even the most outlandish ones are possible with God. We must dream those impossible dreams. God calls us to imagine how those outrageous visions fit into God’s yearning for this world. Then, together we must push on, fighting with all that we have within ourselves to keep those dreams alive. So like those disciples in today’s Gospel we are sent out, not with all the supplies we need, but with the dream of God. Let us go forth to dream with God, for nothing is too wonderful for our Lord.