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June 26, 2011

The Binding

Several years ago, at the 7:00 Christmas Eve service, here in this sanctuary

we were serving communion by intinction. 

As a row of visitors was invited to come forward one woman remained in her seat. 

A member in the row behind her leaned forward and whispered that we welcome everyone to the table and she should feel free to participate. 

“Oh, no!” the woman responded.  “It is so cannibalistic.”

In her mind- sharing body and blood was barbaric and she could not get past that.

 

Well, today we have another very barbaric story.

"Abraham! Take your son, your only son, Isaac, whom you love, and....offer him as a burnt offering."

 

Let’s back up and see how we got here.

Abraham was living in Haran, the area now Iraq.  

God told Abraham to leave his family, to leave his homeland, to leave his flocks and fields,

to leave his life long security in Haran and travel a thousand miles to the land of Palestine.

 

God promised three things- If he obeyed, Abraham would be blessed with family, land, and God’s presence in his life. 

 

And with no further ado, Abraham left Haran because he trusted in the promises of God. 

 

Immediately, God started fulfilling his promises.

The land was as promised, flowing with milk and honey, cattle and cows and camels,

with fertile fields and fine fruit trees.

 

Abraham and Sarah prospered and they were happy

and they had more than they could ever want

except they had no children. 

 

Even though God had promised that Abraham would be the father of a great nation, there were not any children born to this marriage.

 

Then one day, when Abraham and Sarah appeared to be too old to have children,

God came to them and said, “It is time. It is time that you got pregnant.”

Abraham and Sarah laughed.

 

Well, miraculously, Sarah became pregnant and gave birth to their son.

They were so happy. They named their son, Isaac which means “laughing boy”.

Isaac was their source of pure happiness.

Life was perfect.Life was wonderful.

Life was everything God had promised and more.

 

Then- WHAM

 

"Abraham! Take your son, your only son, Isaac, whom you love, and....offer him as a burnt offering."

 

Now child sacrifice was not unheard of in this part of the world at this time in history. 

There were cultures and traditions that accepted it as part of their way of life.

 

But the God of Abraham had promised him he would be the father of a nation. 

He would have descendents as numerous as the stars; Isaac was the only way this would happen. 

If he killed Isaac he killed the promise.

 

How was Abraham supposed to understand the contradictions?

God’s command contradicted God’s promise.

God’s sovereignty contradicted God’s faithfulness.

God’s blessings contradicted God’s demands for obedience.

 

We want to think that faith will bring sweetness and light into our lives.

We want to believe that if we are faithful and obedient

God will bless us with love and wholeness and happiness and serenity and joy.

 

This story seems to say that living in the presence of God

requires a struggle that can bring us to the brink of despair. 

That a faithful life may in fact lead to heartbreak.

 

There seem to be very fine lines in this story between

greatness and madness,

faith and fanaticism,

the highest good and the greatest evil.

 

This story raises so many questions. Big questions.

What kind of God would ask this of a father?

What kind of father would be willing to obey?

Why didn’t Isaac fight back or resist?

Where is Sarah?

 

And there aren't any good answers.

Because in the end it is an ugly story.

 

But even being ugly, the story is not really about the ugliness. It's about the faith of Abraham

who was willing to do whatever God asked.

For him there was no limit.

And, it is also a story about the faithfulness of God.

God, who at the beginning of the story is called a tester.

At the end, he is called a provider.

Because ultimately, no matter what else is happening, God provides,

and that turns an ugly story a little less ugly.

 

The binding of Isaac is one of those accounts in scripture that reminds us all too well

that we don't have a neat and tidy little religion that is always nice and sweet and respectable.

There are a lot of ugly stories around.

 

The Israelites could not escape life’s brutality and the wreckage that so often occurs.  Neither can we.  There are three members of this congregation who are 58 years old and dealing with metastasized cancer.  More than a dozen of our members are caring for loved ones with some level of dementia.  We have folks desperately battling alcohol and drug addiction.  Families are struggling with abusive relationships.

 

How can we live in a world  where God does not behave according to our rules? 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.

 

This is when we see how serious faith really is.

This is when we learn what a relationship with God really requires.

When the demands are too great.

When the path seems absurd and the ending too final.

When the story is simply too ugly to bear.

 

Our story may take us into unspeakable personal tragedy.

It may take us into circumstances that we cannot control.

God may ask the impossible of us, and work on a timetable we can’t abide.

The journey may not even be what we thought it was when we started.

 

But even the ugly story promises "God will provide."

Like Abraham we must sacrifice our need for control and our wishful thinking

that somehow we are immune to the struggles and pain

that faced the countless faithful who came before us.

 

We are challenged to trust that God will indeed provide...

not necessarily a way out,

but always a way through.

 

Because even in the worst possible scenario, the story somehow finds its way back to God’s faithfulness.  There is always the possibility of redemption.

 

Even in a thicket on top of a hill. With a knife in the air over the wide-eyed stare of a child.

 

Even there.

Even here.

Amen.


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