A very difficult story



Our reading from Genesis this week is a very difficult story. Over the centuries it has engendered heated debate. Is it really a story of an abusive God, a deluded Abraham? Is this advocating religious violence at its worst? It would be simpler to avoid it and find a nicer reading. But we cannot ignore it simply because we find it disturbing. It comes to us as part of a long tradition. For thousands of years it has spoken to faithful people about God and faith. Today we are invited to wrestle with it for ourselves.
The first thing I want to note is that the stories of Abraham are foundational to Judaism, Christianity and Islam. Muslims tell this story slightly differently from what we read in Genesis. They understand that Abraham loved both sons equally, and after Hagar is expelled, Abraham continues to spend half the year with his son Ishmael, and half with Isaac. Jews, and us Christians, have a different understanding. But all three faiths tell this story from Genesis. For Jew and Muslim the mountain where this is set is the mountain in Jerusalem, Temple Mount for Jews, Haram al-Sharif (the Noble Sanctuary) for Muslims. This is not just our story.
The name of this story for Jews is “the akedah”[1], the binding of Isaac. The akedah begins with “After these things God tested Abraham”. Howard Wallace explores what this word “tested” might mean, and suggests that it is similar to how metals are tested or proved, taken to their limits. The Medieval Jewish writer Maimonides described this story as a test case of the extreme limits of the love and fear of God.[2]
So what are the things that come before this testing? God’s call to Abraham to go to a land he has never seen; God’s promise to Abraham that he will be the father of a great nation; the long years of Sarah’s barrenness; the birth of Ishmael; and at long last, the impossible birth of the boy they call “Laughter.” And now, after Ishmael is gone, God demands: “Take your son, your only son, whom you love, Isaac, and go to the land of Moriah and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains that I will show you” (22:2). Isaac is not just a son; he is the realisation of his great longing for a son with Sarah and the fulfilment of the promise that he Abraham will be the father of a great nation. This is cataclysmic on so many levels.
As they set out with Isaac carrying the wood and Abraham the knife and fire, Isaac breaks the silence and asks Abraham where the lamb is. He begins “My father” and Abraham answers “Here I am” – in Hebrew hineni. It is used three times, at the beginning of the story when Abraham answers God’s call, here with his son, and at the end just as he is to bring the knife down. Each instance is one of great attentiveness. Abraham is attentive to God and obeys. But here in his grief he is equally attentive to his son. Mixed in this word is all the grief, horror, pain, love and hope that this story engenders. It invites us to be equally attentive.
The story ends with God stopping the horror. This is not the all-knowing God found later in scripture. Here we see how people’s understanding of the nature of God grows over time. Here God does not know, and needs to know that Abraham, he who God has risked everything on, is really faithful and will do all that is needed. And in a way this is also a test for Abraham. Is this God that he has risked everything for to be truly trusted. Is God faithful? The akedah finishes with God seeing that Abraham is faithful, and Abraham seeing that God is faithful. The word translated as “provided” can equally be translated as see. Each sees the other. The limits are tested. We too are invited to see.
Kathryn Schifferdecker concludes. “The story of the akedah makes a claim on us: All that we have, even our own lives and those of the ones most dear to us, belong ultimately to God, who gave them to us in the first place. The story of the akedah assures us that God will provide, that God will be present. And, of course, as generations of Christian interpreters have seen, it foreshadows the story that forms the foundation of Christian faith – the story of the death and resurrection of the beloved son, son of Abraham, son of David, Son of God.”[3]


[1] Kathryn Schifferdecker <http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2138>
[2] Howard Wallace <http://hwallace.unitingchurch.org.au/WebOTcomments/OrdinaryA/PentecostAGen22.html>
[3] Kathryn Schifferdecker, ibid.

Comments

Jennifer said…
I used to seriously dislike this passage but now it seems to me to be thé closest passage we havé to understanding how God must havé fêlt when hé pût his only son on thé cross for us

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