Sunday June 29, 2008
“What Christianity aims at decisively is a total transformation in a man, to wrest from him through renunciation and self denial all that, and precisely that, to which he immediately clings, in which he immediately has his life. This sort of religion as ‘man’ understands it, is not what he wants. The upshot therefore is that from generation to generation there lives… a highly respected class in the community (whose sole cause for being) is to invert the whole situation so that what man likes becomes religion…” Soren Kierkegaard 1843
Akedah
Genesis 22:1-14 ...God tested Abraham. He said to him, “Abraham!” And he said, “Here I am.” He said, “Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains that I shall show you.”
So Abraham rose early in the morning, saddled his donkey, and took two of his young men with him, and his son Isaac; he cut the wood for the burnt offering, and set out and went to the place in the distance that God had shown him. On the third day Abraham looked up and saw the place far away. Then Abraham said to his young men, “Stay here with the donkey; the boy and I will go over there; we will worship, and then we will come back to you.” Abraham took the wood of the burnt offering and laid it on his son Isaac, and he himself carried the fire and the knife. So the two of them walked on together. Isaac said to his father Abraham, “Father!” And he said, “Here I am, my son.” He said, “The fire and the wood are here, but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?” Abraham said, “God himself will provide the lamb for a burnt offering, my son.” So the two of them walked on together. When they came to the place that God had shown him, Abraham built an altar there and laid the wood in order. 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.
But the angel of the Lord called to him from heaven, and said, “Abraham, Abraham!” And he said, “Here I am.” He said, “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.” And Abraham looked up and saw a ram, caught in a thicket by its horns. Abraham went and took the ram and offered it up as a burnt offering instead of his son. So Abraham called that place “The Lord will provide”; as it is said to this day, “On the mount of the Lord it shall be provided.”
The angel of the Lord called to Abraham a second time from heaven, and said, “By myself I have sworn, says the Lord: Because you have done this, and have not withheld your son, your only son, I will indeed bless you, and I will make your offspring as numerous as the stars of heaven and as the sand that is on the seashore. And your offspring shall possess the gate of their enemies, and by your offspring shall all the nations of the earth gain blessing for themselves, because you have obeyed my voice.”
I. Once upon a time there was a man who as a child had heard the beautiful story about how God tempted Abraham, and how he endured temptation, kept the faith, and a second time received again a son contrary to expectation. When the child became older he read the same story with even greater admiration, for life had separated what was united in the pious simplicity of the child. The older he became, the more frequently his mind reverted to that story, his enthusiasm became greater and greater, and yet he was less and less able to understand the story. At last in his interest for that he forgot everything else; his soul had only one wish, to see Abraham, one longing, to have been witness to that event. His desire was not to behold the beautiful countries of the Orient, or the earthly glory of the Promised Land, or that godfearing couple whose old age God had blessed, or the venerable figure of the aged patriarch, or the vigorous young manhood of Isaac whom God had bestowed upon Abraham–he saw no reason why the same thing might not have taken place on the scab lands of Washington. His yearning was to accompany them on the three days' journey when Abraham rode with sorrow before him and with Isaac by his side. His only wish was to be present at the time when Abraham lifted up his eyes and saw Mount Moriah afar off, at the time when he left the asses behind and went alone with Isaac up unto the mountain; for what his mind was intent upon was not the ingenious web of imagination but the shudder of thought.
That man was not a thinker, he felt no need of getting beyond faith; he deemed it the most glorious thing to be remembered as the father of it, an enviable lot to possess it, even though no one else were to know it.
II. It was early in the morning, Abraham arose, he had the asses saddled, left his tent, and Isaac with him, but Sarah looked out of the window after them until they had passed down the valley and she could see them no more. They rode in silence for three days. On the morning of the fourth day Abraham said never a word, but he lifted up his eyes and saw Mount Moriah afar off. He left the young men behind and went on alone with Isaac beside him up to the mountain. But Abraham said to himself, "I will not conceal from Isaac whither this course leads him." He stood still, he laid his hand upon the head of Isaac in benediction, and Isaac bowed to receive the blessing. And Abraham's face was fatherliness, his look was mild, his speech encouraging. But Isaac was unable to understand him, his soul could not be exalted; he embraced Abraham's knees, he fell at his feet imploringly, he begged for his young life, for the fair hope of his future, he called to mind the joy in Abraham's house, he called to mind the sorrow and loneliness. Then Abraham lifted up the boy, he walked with him by his side, and his talk was full of comfort and exhortation. But Isaac could not understand him. He climbed Mount Moriah, but Isaac understood him not. Then for an instant he turned away from him, and when Isaac again saw Abraham's face it was changed, his glance was wild, his form was horror. He seized Isaac by the throat, threw him to the ground, and said, "Stupid boy, dost thou then suppose that I am thy father? I am an idolater. Dost thou suppose that this is God's bidding? No, it is my desire." Then Isaac trembled and cried out in his terror, "O God in heaven, have compassion upon me. God of Abraham, have compassion upon me. If I have no father upon earth, be Thou my father!" But Abraham in a low voice said to himself, "O Lord in heaven, I thank Thee. After all it is better for him to believe that I am a monster, rather than that he should lose faith in Thee."
III. It was early in the morning, Abraham arose, he embraced Sarah, the bride of his old age, and Sarah kissed Isaac, who had taken away her reproach, who was her pride, her hope for all time. So they rode on in silence along the way, and Abraham's glance was fixed upon the ground until the fourth day when he lifted up his eyes and saw afar off Mount Moriah, but his glance turned again to the ground. Silently he laid the wood in order, he bound Isaac, in silence he drew the knife–then he saw the ram which God had prepared. Then he offered that and returned home. … From that time on Abraham became old, he could not forget that God had required this of him. Isaac throve as before, but Abraham's eyes were darkened, and he knew joy no more.
IV. It was early in the morning and Abraham believed and did not doubt, he believed the preposterous. If Abraham had doubted–then he would have done something else, something glorious; for how could Abraham do anything but what is great and glorious! He marched up to Mount Moriah, he cleft the fire-wood, lit the pyre, drew the knife–he cried out to God, "Despise not this sacrifice, it is not the best thing I possess, that I know well, for what is an old man in comparison with the child of promise; but it is the best I am able to give Thee. Let Isaac never come to know this, that he may console himself with his youth." He plunged the knife into his own breast. He would have been admired in the world, and his name would not have been forgotten; but it is one thing to be admired, and another to be the guiding star which saves the anguished.
V. It was early in the morning, Abraham arose betimes, he kissed Sarah, the young mother, and Sarah kissed Isaac, her delight, her joy at all times. And Abraham rode pensively along the way, he thought of Hagar and of the son whom he drove out into the wilderness, he climbed Mount Moriah, he drew the knife.
It was a quiet evening when Abraham rode out alone, and he rode to Mount Moriah; he threw himself upon his face, he prayed God to forgive him his sin, that he had been willing to offer Isaac, that the father had forgotten his duty toward the son. Often he rode his lonely way, but he found no rest. He could not comprehend that it was a sin to be willing to offer to God the best thing he possessed, that for which he would many times have given his life; and if it was a sin, if he had not loved Isaac as he did, then he could not understand that it might be forgiven. For what sin could be more dreadful?
VI. It was early in the morning, everything was prepared for the journey in Abraham's house. He bade Sarah farewell, and Eleazar, the faithful servant, followed him along the way, until he turned back. They rode together in harmony, Abraham and Isaac, until they came to Mount Moriah. But Abraham prepared everything for the sacrifice, calmly and quietly; but when he turned and drew the knife, Isaac saw that his left hand was clenched in despair, that a tremor passed through his body–but Abraham drew the knife.
Then they returned again home, and Sarah hastened to meet them, but Isaac had lost his faith. No word of this had ever been spoken in the world, and Isaac never talked to anyone about what he had seen, and Abraham did not suspect that anyone had seen it.
VII. It was early in the morning, And Abraham rose as though it were to a festival, so he hastened to the place spoken of, to Mount Moriah. He said nothing to Sarah, nothing to Eleazar. Indeed who could understand him? Had not the temptation by its very nature exacted of him an oath of silence? He cleft the wood, he bound Isaac, he lit the pyre, he drew the knife. My hearer, there was many a father who believed that with his son he lost everything that was dearest to him in the world, that he was deprived of every hope for the future, but yet there was none that was the child of promise in the sense that Isaac was for Abraham. There was many a father who lost his child; but then it was God, it was the unalterable, the unsearchable will of the Almighty, it was His hand took the child. Not so with Abraham. For him was reserved a harder trial, and Isaac's fate was laid along with the knife in Abraham's hand. And there he stood, the old man, with his only hope! But he did not doubt, he did not look anxiously to the right or to the left, he did not challenge heaven with his prayers. He knew that it was God the Almighty who was trying him, he knew that it was the hardest sacrifice that could be required of him; but he knew also that no sacrifice was too hard when God required it–and he drew the knife.
The exerpts you've heard read and what you are about to hear come with my gratitude to Soren Kierkegaard who wrote Fear and Trembling a hundred years before I was born and a group of scholars from Nazarene Theological Seminary in Kansas City.
Jewish legend has it that Abraham went to the Akedah, the binding of Isaac, in "fear and trembling" for on his way he had been met by Satan, who tried to stop him by arguing that God had promised him that his future, and the future of all his teachings about the One God, would depend on Isaac and now he was about to frustrate that promise. If Abraham had doubted, if he had looked about irresolutely, if before he drew the knife he had by chance discovered the ram, then he would have gone home, everything would have been the same, he has Sarah, he retained Isaac, and yet how changed! For his retreat would have been a flight, his salvation an accident, his reward dishonor, his future perhaps perdition. Then he would have borne witness neither to his faith nor to God's grace, but would have testified only how dreadful it is to march up Mount Moriah. Hebrews reminds us that “by faith Abraham, when he was tested, offered up Isaac, and he who had received the promises was ready to offer up his only son . . . [Heb. 11:17].
Near the end of Abraham’s life God had come and given him a marvelous promise of a future in which his descendants would be the channel of blessing to the world. But Abraham’s wife Sarah was barren. That made the promise impossible from any human perspective. Accompanying the promise was the call of God to Abraham to leave all the security of the past and strike out for an unknown destination that God would show him. Abraham’s initial response was to go as God had told him. But in the going, in the journey that unfolded over the next quarter century, Abraham constantly struggled with the promise under which he had been called to live. Soon after he received the promise he allowed his fear and cowardice to overcome his faith and his trust in God, and so gave Sarah away to Pharaoh. In that failure he unleashed a curse upon others rather than the intended blessing. But God reaffirmed the promise and continued to call Abraham to be faithful.
In other incidents throughout those 25 years Abraham demonstrated the very human mixture of incredible faith in God and at the same time the tendency to want to have the promise on his own terms with what he could see and control. His journey was a roller coaster of obedience and failure, all held together by God’s faithfulness and commitment to him and his wife. Finally, after that long struggle, Sarah gave birth to the miracle child of promise, Isaac. After all his failed attempts to make the promise work, Abraham had the very real physical proof of the promise that he could hold in his arms solely as a gift from God.
After his difficult journey, and God’s faithfulness in guiding Abraham through it to the point of accepting God’s work in the promise, we would expect Abraham to be able to relax in the fact that he now had the promise. But into that settled serenity and a secured promise God again intrudes as he had before at Haran, and calls Abraham to yet another journey, this more threatening and more problematic than his first.
Now very early in the narrative we are told that this is a test of Abraham. There are two words for “testing” in the Hebrew of the Bible. Both appear in Psalms 26:2, ``Try me, Lord, and put me to the test.'' Rabbi Meir Leibush Malbim, in his comments on that verse, explains the difference between the two words. The first is testing to see if something or someone is maintaining expected standards, much like tests given to students in school. The second testing is more like experimentation, pushing an entity beyond its present limits to see how much it can bear. A person who undergoes a test of this sort might succeed or fail, but one thing is certain -- he emerges changed. He might come out shattered, or he might rise to new heights, but he will not be the same as he was before. This is the word for testing which Scripture uses with reference to Abraham. We know that that this is a test of Abraham. The narrator speaking centuries later knows that, but from within the story, Abraham does not know that it is a test. He is told to go under God’s direction just as many years earlier he had been told to go when God called him to leave Haran. Can you imagine the magnitude of what God called Abraham to do? God uses language that parallels Abraham’s original call, yet this time instead of promising a future with many descendants, God asks Abraham to surrender the future that he had already provided for him in Isaac.
We tend to think that we have all the questions about God sewed up. We can define him in neat categories, list his attributes, know what he will do, and even draw up formulas for how God will respond in any given circumstance. that nothing he could do would surprise us. And to insure that nothing disturbs our settled world, we construct theological systems that insulate our ideas about God and then assert that anything that happens in the world that does not fit within what we already know about God must be from some other source. So our temptation with his story is to debate the character of God, rather than to try and understand what the story is trying to tell us. Yet we can’t seem to avoid questions that arise from within the story. Why would God, after all this time in patiently dealing with Abraham in getting him to accept the promise, now take it all back? After Abraham finally had some peace in the world and had finally settled into life with God’s promise, provided solely by God as a commitment to the future, why would God turn that settled world upside down again? Why does God not just leave Abraham alone? How do we live in this world if we cannot finally hold onto the promise once we have it in our hands?
It is not that these questions are improper. Our sense of fairness and justice demands that we ask them. They help us to find our own selves in this story. But none of these questions are on the lips of Abraham. He has not hesitated before to try to get God to explain the promise. But not here. In this test Abraham responds differently than he has ever done before.
Abraham’s entire adult life had been marked by his journey to a place that he did not know, into a future that he did not always understand while trusting that God would show him the destination and how to get there. And so we see Abraham still traveling, this time toward a future fraught with still greater uncertainty and the possibility of endings arising out of new beginnings, the exact opposite of what his previous journey had taught him. And yet, in contrast to his earlier responses, this time Abraham simply went without question.
The test is not whether Abraham had the faith to believe God would spare the child. The test was whether Abraham had really made this journey of faith to a point where he could trust God and not just trust what he could see and hold in his arms.
The heart of the story begins unfolding in Abraham’s response to Isaac innocent enough question "where is the offering?" The traditional translation of Abraham’s response is: "God himself will provide the lamb for a burnt offering, my son." However, the Hebrew word translated "provide" is actually the word "see". "God will see it, the lamb for a burnt offering, my son." While this Hebrew verb does not ordinarily mean "provide," Karl Barth made an interesting connection between the nuances of the Hebrew and English terms. He notes that ‘pro-vide’ comes from a root Latin verb that means "to see" (cf. video) with a suffix that means "before". So while "provide" may not be the lexical definition of the Hebrew word in this context "provide" in the sense of God "seeing before" Abraham sees catches the nuance of meaning very well here. It is God seeing what is needed before Abraham sees it, or of God seeing what Abraham does not see.
What Abraham affirmed in his answer to his son was not the inevitability that God would provide a substitute offering in place of Isaac. His affirmation was only to fact that a lamb would be provided the burnt offering. While we know from the end of the story that this would be a ram, from within the narrative at this point the only answer points to Isaac. God, indeed, had provided Isaac in a miraculous way. And from everything in the story to this point, he had provided him for just this occasion! It was an affirmation from Abraham that God could see in ways that he could not. This was a big step for Abraham, especially important in light of the horrific nature of the test in this story. He had responded in faith to God before, but had always managed to reserve some part of that commitment for his own prerogative. This affirmation opens the way for Abraham to respond, for the first time, in a totally unqualified way to God and his purposes in the world, even at the cost of his son.
Isn’t it odd how we who regularly discard our innocents in sacrifices to far lesser gods than Yahweh, look with condescension upon Abraham. No stranger to the ways of the real God, Abraham would know that a mad, disordered, barbaric age needs more than a faith with no claim but that its god can be served without cost.
The test was successful because Abraham had demonstrated that finally he was willing to trust God totally with the promise and the future. God’s words: "Now I know" mark the end of the test from God’s side. Abraham had finally proven himself faithful and willing to trust God without question even in the face of the most severe and ominous test of the promise.
The final element of the story is not even about sacrifice as such, since it moves to address the unsettled and unsettling questions about God that have hung over the whole story. If we listen to the conclusion of the story carefully, we will begin to realize that it addresses a far deeper issue than even Abraham’s faithfulness to God. In fact, the test is the background against which a much more troubling set of questions finally emerges that has far more direct impact on the descendants of Abraham (including us!). How do we live faithfully to God in a world in which we accept his promise, experience his gift, only to have the gift taken away for reasons that we do not know or can not understand? How can we live with a God who can bring such unsettledness into our lives, who can call us to live in a constant state of journey into an unknown future, who can call on us to do the most heart wrenching things? How can we trust a God who would ask of us impossible things, show us that they are indeed possible, and then close the door on the very possibility that he had opened? How can we live with a God that we cannot predict and who works in the world in ways that go beyond what we can comprehend?
The site of what the Jews refer to as the Akedah, this binding of Isaac, is the place in Jerusalem where the Temple was built. And centuries later, the skies will darken, the winds howl and another man, this time a young one will again walk up Moriah, driven by a God who demands everything and who stops at nothing. He carries a cross on his back rather than sticks for a fire, but like Abraham, he is obedient to the call of a wild and restless God who is determined to have his way with us, no matter the cost.
Finally, it is up to us whether we trust God’s seeing or whether we try to see on our own. We want to trust in what we can hold in our arms. We want a predictable God, one who will keep us comfortable, who would never call us into uncertainty and ambiguity, and who would certainly never ask us to give up anything that we cherish. We want a safe God and a safe world that we can manage. We may conclude that only our own sight is adequate. Or we may trust what God sees that we cannot see. As with Abraham so with us, life is a faith journey that leads us to our conclusion. The story invites us to participate in that journey with Abraham, and to reach his conclusion, to affirm God as the one who sees and then to live life under God because it is true. The decision finally is ours. Perhaps that is what makes it a test.