Text: Genesis 22:1-14
Reading the Bible has proven to be a challenging and enlightening task for our whole congregation. On leaving the service last Sunday, one lady said to me, "Reading the Bible has stimulated a lot of conversation in our household." That seems to be true for all of us.
In Sunday School last week, one person was disturbed with Noah's sacrifice of animals immediately after the flood. He wondered if Noah had made a species extinct by sacrificing two animals when there were only two of each kind on the ark. But then we discovered that another verse suggests that Noah had seven pair of each species on the ark.
Another reader was more than a little disturbed about the Tower of Babel story, observing, "You know, God didn't come off too well in that story."
Then we turned our attention to the Sunday School lesson, which was about Job. Again more than a few were disturbed that God had tested Job's faith, almost playing around with him and allowing terrible things to happen to Job and his family in the process. The author Virginia Woolf wrote in her diary, "I read the Book of Job last night," and like our member concluded, "I don't think God comes well out of it."
Job responded by damning the day that he was born. Then he called for a redeemer who could take God to court on a charge of moral mismanagement.
As if all that weren't enough, our reading-through-the-Bible plan for this week had us cover the story in which God demands that Abraham sacrifice his only son Isaac on an altar. That too is a very disturbing story. It seems to me that God has been on trial all week.
This scene of Abraham offering to sacrifice Isaac is a disturbing incident. I could not help but wonder what the modern justice system would do with God's requirement of Abraham.
Recently the news outlets reported quite a stir when the "Crocodile hunter" Steve Irwin fed meat to a 13-foot crocodile with his infant son in his arms. I saw the picture on the internet, and it looked dangerous to me. The television channel was flooded with calls of protest. Some even threatened legal action against Steve Irwin for endangering his child.
Several months ago a similar protest occurred when pop singer Michael Jackson dangled his infant son over the balcony railing before a crowd of admirers down below. A storm of protest and indignation erupted then too, with talk of legal action.
Given those reactions to relatively mild endangerments of children, how would the public react to a God who demanded that Abraham kill his own son? What kind of God is that? Even if God intended all along to rescue Isaac at the last minute, how can we avoid an accusation of cruel and inhumane treatment? We need to put God on trial.
This story was noticed by pop singer Bob Dylan who once wrote a song about it entitled "Highway 61." In it the following dialog takes place between God and Abraham:
Oh God said to Abraham, "Kill me a son."
Abe said, "Man, you must be puttin me on."
God said, "No," Abe said, "What?"
God said, "You can do what you wanna, but the next time you see me comin' you better run."
Well Abe said, "Where d'you want this killin, done?"
God said, "Out on Highway 61."
This story has been heralded in both Jewish and Christian tradition as the supreme test of faith. The story endures as one of the most poignant depictions of the conflicting demands of love of family and love of God.
And Abraham doesn't come off too well in this story either. In fact, this is the second son he has mistreated. He first had a son by the slave woman Hagar, but then his wife Sarah demanded that Abraham put them both out of the camp. And Abraham acquiesced to his wife's demands.
When the local Presbyterian pastor, Scott Wiest, and I compared notes on the preaching for this week, I discovered that he planned to emphasize the humanness of Abraham. Even though he was the father of a great nation and a hero of the Bible, he was just an ordinary person just like you and me. He had his glaring failures. I think Scott planned to mention five times Abraham failed.
It was bad enough to put the first son out to possibly starve to death, but now Abraham is confronted with the horrific demand by God that he offer his only remaining son as a burnt offering. The narrative is told in such as way that we, the readers, know from the beginning that this is a test, but Abraham knows nothing of a test.
We have to admire the fact that Abraham responds so unquestioningly. When God instructed him where to go, Abraham obeys without question.
Some have pointed out the inconsistency in Abraham's actions. When God threatened to destroy Sodom in chapter 18, Abraham bargains with God. Abraham says, "Suppose there are fifty righteous within the city; will you then sweep away the place and not forgive it for the fifty righteous who are in it? Far be it from you to do such a thing, to slay the righteous with the wicked, so that the righteous fare as the wicked! Far be that from you! Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is just?"
And his bargaining with God proved so successful that he reduced his number of righteous to 45, then 40, then 30, and 20, and finally 10. And God replied, "For the sake of ten I will not destroy it."
But when the life of his own son is demanded, Abraham gives up without a whimper. In the best light, we might conclude that for himself Abraham asks nothing, but for strangers he risks God's wrath for the sake of mercy.
The suspense builds as Abraham and Isaac make their trek to the place of sacrifice. Isaac carries the wood while Abraham carries the fire and the knife. As they walk along, Isaac asks his father, "The fire and the wood are here, but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?"
Abraham answers in words that he cannot fully understand, "God himself will provide the lamb for a burnt offering, my son."
Abraham takes great care in building the altar and placing the wood in order. Then the tragic scene is described in words that lack emotion, "He bound his son Isaac, and laid him on the altar, on top of the wood. Then Abraham reached out his hand and took the knife to kill his son."
Our minds race to imagine how that scene unfolded. What emotion was Abraham showing? Was he trembling as he grasped his son and tied him up? Did Isaac resist this strange behavior on his father's behalf? Did he protest when he was laid on the altar? Or did all of this take place with passive submission? I can't work out in my own mind just how this scene could have played out. "He bound his son Isaac, and laid him on the altar, on top of the wood. Then Abraham reached out his hand and took the knife to kill his son."
The full horror of the scene is spared to us because we know what comes next. And thank God that we are spared the full impact of the drama, for we could hardly stand it.
The son is miraculously spared by the intervention of an angel. The angel calls out just in time to prevent Abraham from completing his grisly task. The angels says, "Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him; for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from me." Abraham has successfully passed the test of faith.
Now that he has passed the test, he sees what he did not see before. Them Abraham looked up and saw a ram, caught in the thicket by its horns. Abraham took the ram and offered it up as a burnt offering instead of his son.
But for many of us the question is not whether Abraham passed the test, but whether God passes the test. How could God have asked a man to sacrifice his own son? What kind of God indeed?
What would happen if we were to put God on trial for this deed? Just after the Second World War a German pastor named Gunther Rutenborn wrote a play called The Sign of Jonas that attempted to answer that question. (1)
A trial is set to find out who was responsible for the terrible years caused by Nazi Germany. Charges are brought against Hitler himself. Some blame the munitions manufacturers who profit from the war. Others blame the cowardly German people who refused to stand up to Hitler. None of it, though, seems quite enough -- until a man stands up in the audience to say, "Do you know who's to blame? God is. Isn't He the one who created this awful world? Didn't He give them the power to do that kind of evil, didn't He allow it to happen, can't the misery be laid at His feet?"
So they decided to put God on trial for the crime of creation -- for creating a world where such terrible things happen. And He is quickly found guilty of the crime and is sentenced. And he charges the three Archangels, Gabriel, Raphael, and Michael, to perform the sentence.
Gabriel walks to one end of the stage and stands brooding, and then says, "When God has to serve I want Him to see what it's like to be an obscure, enchained human being. He'll be born in the middle of nowhere and grow up in a country occupied by foreign forces, a Jew in a Jew-hating world."
Raphael walks to the other end of the stage and says, "When God has to serve His sentence, I'm going to see to it that He knows what it's like to be frustrated and insecure. He'll know what it's like to be a refugee with no place to lay His head. His plans won't be fulfilled. No one will understand him. And He will go to his grave a failure, not sure He's accomplished anything."
Finally, Michael steps to the middle of the stage. "I'm going to see that He knows what it's like to suffer in every conceivable way. He'll be rejected and know what that's like. He'll suffer and know pain. He will be spat on, tormented, ridiculed, die the slow torture of a common criminal."
And with that the lights go out, and the audience sits, utterly quiet in the dark, as the awareness dawns: God has served the sentence.
Four hundred years ago, Martin Luther's wife listened as he read this story of Abraham and Isaac. Then she blurted out our question, "How could a loving God ask Abraham to sacrifice his only son?"
"Why Katy," Luther said to her, "He did it himself."
What kind of God are we dealing with? We have here a God who asks of us everything! And then this same God gives his son in our place. It's a God who allows every kind of evil thing to happen in this world, and then comes to live with us in it. God knows our pain, and comes to heal it all.
Christians cannot read this story of the sacrifice of a son without thinking of God's only son. God provided the lamb. As John the Baptist said, "Behold the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world!"
Jesus also walked up a mountain, the hill of Calvary. And he carried the wood as well, the wood of the cross. But this time, there was no escape for the Son of God. He opened his hands to receive the nails. He suffered and died. He died a sacrificial death so that our sons and daughters could know eternal life.
This is a magnificent story about an awful test. But it wasn't Abraham alone who passed the test. When we put our God on trial, we find that God passed the test as well.
Endnotes:
1) This story was told in a sermon delivered on the Protestant Hour by The Rev. Samuel T. Lloyd III, June 27, 1999, http://www.protestanthour.com/yourti2607.html.