陳胤安牧師於二〇二六年六月廿一日在聖馬田堂之講道
經課： 創世記21.8–21
A Sermon preached at St Martin-in-the-Fields on 21 June 2026 by Revd Yin-An Chen
Reading for address: Genesis 21.8–21
今天我們來到亞伯拉罕和撒拉故事中，一個充滿喜樂的時刻。
經過多年的等待、多年的失望、多年的懷疑——上帝的應許究竟會不會實現呢？終於，以撒出生了。那位應許之子來到了。撒拉喜笑顏開，亞伯拉罕更大擺筵席慶祝。
但如果我們只從以撒的角度讀這段經文，我們可能會錯過一些非常重要的東西。
今天經課的開始，是以撒的慶祝宴席，但這段經文真正的焦點，其實是奔走去到曠野的夏甲和以實瑪利。在遠離亞伯拉罕帳棚的地方，我們看見上帝一個很重要的屬性：上帝不單單向有權勢的人守約，也不單單向那些承受產業的人守約；上帝同樣看見、聽見那些被推到社會邊緣的人。
這是一個複雜的故事，因為它揭露了亞伯拉罕家庭裏，複雜的權力關係。
我們通常記得，撒拉是一位不能生育的婦人。這份痛苦是真實的。在古代社會，婦女的地位和保障，往往與能否生兒育女緊緊相連。撒拉多年承受着羞辱和傷痛。
但一個人受過傷，並不代表她不會傷害別人。
當撒拉無法懷孕時，她把自己的婢女夏甲給了亞伯拉罕，希望夏甲替她生孩子。
但夏甲其實沒有選擇。她是一個奴隸。她的身體成為了解決別人問題的工具。
多年之後，以撒出生了，一切都改變了。
撒拉看見以實瑪利和以撒一起玩耍。忽然間，以實瑪利不再被視為家中的孩子，而變成了一個威脅。
撒拉開始擔心以撒的未來，擔心他的產業，也許更擔心兩個孩子之間的感情，會模糊她想清楚劃分的界線。
於是，撒拉要求亞伯拉罕把夏甲和以實瑪利趕走。
這個故事並不是那麼單純地呈現一個好人、一個壞人。
撒拉既是受害者，也是掌握權力的人。她是父權制度下受傷的婦女，同時也是擁有奴隸的主人。
亞伯拉罕雖然難過，但最後還是照着撒拉所吩咐地做了。
而夏甲最沒有權力，卻承受了所有人的決定所帶來的後果。
我們當中恐怕很多人，都明白夏甲的感受。
當別人替我們決定人生方向；
當人們重視的是我們能提供什麼、給予什麼，而不是我們是誰；
當環境一改變，我們突然變得可有可無。
夏甲再次被送進曠野。其實這已經是她第二次進入曠野。
第一次是在多年以前，她因為受不了撒拉的苦待而逃走。就在那次逃亡中，上帝親自向她顯現。
很特別的是，在聖經裏，第一個為上帝命名的人，並不是君王、祭司，也不是先知，而是一位埃及來的女奴隸。
她稱上帝為「以利羅伊」（El Roi），意思是：「看顧我的上帝」。
想想看：在所有偉大的信仰宣告之前，一位被壓迫、被忽視的外邦女子，已經見證了一位看見人的上帝。
來到創世記二十一章，夏甲再次身處曠野。食物快用完了。水沒有了。
前路似乎完全消失。
她把兒子放在灌木下，自己走遠一點，因為她不忍心看着兒子死去。
然後，她放聲痛哭。
這大概是整本聖經最令人心碎的畫面。
一位母親已經沒有辦法了。一個孩子的生命似乎正在流逝。
沒有權力。沒有保護。沒有希望。
就在這時，故事出現了轉機。
經文説：「上帝聽見童子的聲音。」
「看見」和「聽見」其實是這段故事反覆出現的主題。
從前上帝「看見」夏甲。
如今上帝「聽見」以實瑪利。
而聖經裏「聽見」這個字，不只是聽到聲音那麼簡單。
它包含了回應、採取行動的意思。
正如以色列人熟悉的禱文：「以色列啊，你要聽！」
這個「聽」不只是接收資訊，而是聽見之後，有所回應。
上帝聽見哭聲，就走近受苦的人。
天使呼喚她的名字：「夏甲，是什麼擾動你？不要害怕。」
在曠野裏，在被趕逐之後，在所有掌權的人都遺忘她之後，上帝仍然認識她的名字。
上帝看見她。
上帝聽見她兒子的呼求。
上帝記得自己的應許。
上帝更打開她的眼睛，讓她看見原來旁邊一直有一口井。
我相信，對很多人來説，夏甲進入曠野的經歷其實並不陌生。
當然，我們的故事和她不完全一樣。但很多移民和尋求避難的人都知道，什麼叫做「因為未來不再安全，而離開自己深愛的家園」。
很多父母都明白，帶着孩子走向一個未知的將來時，心裏總會問自己：「我這個決定究竟對不對？」很多人都明白，離開家人、朋友、熟悉的語言、熟悉的街道和回憶，是一種怎樣的失落。
當夏甲離開亞伯拉罕的家時，她不是走向確定。她是走進曠野。
而聖經裏的曠野，從來不只是一個地理位置。
曠野是舊生活已經結束，但新生活「還未開始」的地方。
是充滿不確定的地方。是地圖不清楚的地方。
是人會問：「以後會怎樣呢？」的地方。
許多透過BNO來到英國的香港人，都明白這種曠野的感覺。
我們感恩在英國有自由。但自由並不代表沒有不安。
新的學校。新的工作。新的文化。新的生活方式。
還有關於身份、歸屬感和「家」的問題。
有時候會孤單。有時候會覺得沒有人真正明白我們失去了什麼。
但正正是在曠野裏，上帝遇見夏甲。
上帝沒有告訴她：「你的擔心是多餘的。」
上帝也沒有否定她旅程中的艱難。
上帝只是對她説：「不要害怕。」
為什麼？
不是因為未來已經清楚了。不是因為所有問題都解決了。而是因為上帝與她同在。
那位在曠野裏看見夏甲的上帝，也看見那些離開了一個家、正在學習如何在另一個地方生活的人。
那位聽見以實瑪利哭聲的上帝，也聽見我們用廣東話禱告的聲音，也聽見我們用英文説出的祈求；聽見我們充滿信心的禱告，也聽見我們流着眼淚的禱告。
而這個故事最美麗的地方，也許是神給夏甲的應許，不只是生存下去。
上帝告訴她，以實瑪利 有未來。有呼召。有使命。
在上帝的故事裏有他的位置。
這對所有離家者來説，這是一個重要的信息。
我們不只是逃離某些東西的人。
在上帝手中，我們也是被帶領走向某些新事物的人。
曠野不是故事的終點。
曠野是上帝打開我們眼睛，讓我們看見原來早已預備好的那口井的地方。
未來也許仍然不確定。
但上帝已經在那裏。
上帝看見我們。
上帝聽見我們孩子的聲音。
上帝記得他的應許。
Today we arrive at a joyful moment in the story of Abraham and Sarah. After years of waiting, years of disappointment, years of wondering whether God’s promise could possibly come true, Isaac is finally born. The child of promise has arrived. Sarah laughs with joy, and Abraham throws a great feast.
But if we only read the story from Isaac’s perspective, we miss something important. The lectionary may begin with Isaac’s feast, but the heart of this passage lies in the wilderness with Hagar and Ishmael. There, far from the tents of Abraham, we discover something significant about the character of God: God not only keeps covenant promises to the powerful or those who inherit a lot, but God also sees and hears those who are pushed to the margins.
This story is difficult because it exposes the complicated realities of power within Abraham’s household. Sarah is often remembered simply as a woman who suffered the pain of childlessness. And that suffering was real. In the ancient world, a woman’s security and social standing were closely tied to bearing children. Sarah carried years of grief and shame.
Yet suffering does not prevent someone from exercising power over another.
When Sarah could not conceive, she gave her slave Hagar to Abraham so that Hagar might bear a child on her behalf. Hagar had no real choice in the matter. She was enslaved. Her body became the solution to someone else’s problem.
Years later, when Isaac is born, everything changes. Sarah sees Ishmael playing with Isaac, and suddenly Ishmael appears not as a beloved child of the household but as a threat. Sarah fears for Isaac’s future, fears for his inheritance, fears perhaps that affection between the two boys might blur the lines she wants firmly drawn.
And so she demands that Abraham cast out Hagar and Ishmael.
Here, the story refuses to give us easy heroes and villains. Sarah is both vulnerable and powerful. She is a victim of patriarchy as well as a slave-owner. Abraham is distressed, yet he complies. Hagar is powerless, yet she bears the consequences of everyone else’s decisions.
Many people know what it feels like to be Hagar in this story. To have decisions made about your life by people with greater authority. To be valued for what you can provide but not for who you are. To discover that when circumstances change, you become disposable.
This is Hagar’s second journey into the wilderness. The first time, years earlier, she fled from Sarah’s harsh treatment. There God met her and spoke to her. Remarkably, Hagar becomes the first person in Scripture to give God a name. She calls God El Roi—‘the God who sees me.’
Think about that. Before kings and prophets, before great theological declarations, an enslaved foreign woman bears witness to a God who sees.
And now, in Genesis 21, Hagar finds herself in the wilderness again.
The provisions run out. The water is gone. The future disappears before her eyes.
She places Ishmael under a bush and moves away because she cannot bear to watch her son die. Then she lifts up her voice and weeps.
It is one of the most heartbreaking scenes in Scripture. A mother who has run out of options. A child whose life appears to be slipping away. No power. No protection. No hope.
And then comes the turning point.
The text says, ‘God heard the voice of the boy.’
Noticing and hearing are recurring themes in this story. Years earlier, God saw Hagar. Now God hears Ishmael.
The Hebrew word for ‘hear’ is richer than mere listening. It implies hearing in such a way that one responds. It is the same word that appears in the great prayer of Israel: ‘Hear, O Israel.’ To hear is to listen, and act and respond.
God hears the cry and moves toward the one who suffers.
The angel calls Hagar by name: ‘What troubles you, Hagar? Do not be afraid.’
In the wilderness, after being cast out, after being forgotten by everyone who held power over her life, Hagar is still known by God.
God sees her.
God hears her son.
God remembers the promise.
And God opens her eyes to the well that was there all along.
For many of us, Hagar’s journey into the wilderness may feel surprisingly familiar.
Of course, none of our stories are identical to hers. Yet many Hong Kong families know something of what it means to leave behind a home you love because the future no longer feels secure. Many know what it is to carry children into an uncertain future, asking whether you have made the right decision. Many know the grief of leaving family, friends, language, familiar streets, and cherished memories.
When Hagar leaves Abraham’s household, she is not walking towards certainty. She is walking into the wilderness.
The wilderness in Scripture is never simply a geographical location. It is the place where the old life has ended but the new life has not yet begun. It is the place of uncertainty. The place where maps no longer work. The place where people ask, ‘What will become of us now?’
Many who arrived in Britain through the BNO pathway know something of that wilderness. There is freedom here, and for that many are deeply grateful. Yet freedom does not remove uncertainty. There are new schools, new workplaces, new customs, new expectations. There are questions about belonging, identity, and home. There are moments of loneliness. Moments when you wonder whether anyone truly understands what has been left behind.
And it is precisely there, in the wilderness, that God meets Hagar.
God does not tell Hagar that her fears are imaginary. God does not deny the hardship of her journey. Instead, God says, ‘Do not be afraid.’
Why? Not because the future is clear. Not because every problem has been solved. But because God is present.
The God who saw Hagar in the wilderness is the God who sees those who have left one home and are still learning how to live in another. The God who heard Ishmael’s cry is the God who hears the prayers spoken in Cantonese and English, the prayers offered in confidence and the prayers offered through tears.
And perhaps the most beautiful part of this story is that God’s promise to Hagar is not about survival alone. God tells her that Ishmael has a future. A calling. A purpose. A place in God’s story.
That is an important word for migrants. We are not merely people who have escaped something. In God’s hands, we are also people being led toward something. The wilderness is not the end of the story. It is the place where God opens our eyes to see the well that we could not see before.
The future may still be uncertain. But God is already there.
God sees us.
God hears our children.
God remembers the promise.