One of the really difficult Biblical texts that hasn't been left out of the lectionary assignments is this story of the near-sacrifice of Isaac. It distresses us, and yet Christians have long seen it as a fore-shadowing of the death and resurrection of our Saviour Jesus Christ.
I, myself, have a deep emotional connection to this passage. The Easter after a child I'd loved had died, I was responsible for assigning the readings for the Great Vigil. The church is dimly lit we work our way through passages of the Hebrew Scriptures – establishing the context of the great Easter event... One of my readers failed to show up so I stepped in to replace her. It was this very passage, and as I read the words, I connected with them – and my voice broke a few times, but when I came to the words, “because you have not withheld your son, your only son, whom you love” – I broke down and wept, head on my arms on the Bible on the lectern. Then I caught my breath and finished the reading. Later when I tried to apologize to the college chaplain for going to pieces during the reading, he simply said, “I thought it the most appropriate reading I've ever heard.”
Among many things, this story is about surrender.
And surrender is not always a popular notion. If we see only the surface of the words we will dislike this God and lose respect for Abraham. Yet historically Abraham is deeply revered as a man of faith.
In seminary I had the good fortune to take a course in Jewish Studies, and it was in this class that I came across an essay by Shalom Spiegel, called The Last Trial. I discovered that the rabbis had very interesting ways of interpreting and understanding various aspects of the story.
At various times throughout Jewish history there has been an emphasis on the faithfulness of Abraham, sometimes upon the faithfulness of Isaac – whom the rabbis understood to be a young man of thirty-seven -- and as such, it is understood that he could have overpowered his elderly father and saved himself.
I discovered that while some interpreters understood that Isaac was actually killed and revived, still others understood that in the terror of the moment, Isaac's soul left him and he was as one who is dead -- but that regardless of how this aspect of the story was interpreted by the sages, a fragment of a traditional prayer is attributed to Isaac (or later, to the angels who attended to him) “Blessed art thou, O Lord, who quickens the dead.”
Certainly there is a way in which Isaac is as good as dead to Abraham, in some profound way, Abraham must surrender his idolatrous hold on this one who is to be his heir, and the one through whom Abraham will become immortalized with descendants as numerous as the stars. But it is important to consider the context of this action.
This is not a schizophrenic hallucination compelling Abraham to action, rather we have the example of a man who has walked with God for a hundred years, perhaps longer. This is a solemn and heavy response to the Holy One who has guided and protected Abraham all these long years. You may recall that in his “youth” Abraham had demonstrated a reluctance or perhaps an inability to completely trust his God, he had hedged his bets a few times ( am thinking of a couple of times when he withheld the truth about Sarah being his wife, of the time he took Hagar to be his wife in order to raise a son for himself that way.)
So in this particular moment when most of us would say, “okay, if this is what God wants, I want another God,” Abraham collects all that is necessary and makes the journey to the mount.
The Hebrew is full of puns. He sees the mount afar off, it is the mount of seeing, here God will see Abraham's faithfulness, here Abraham will see the grace of God. Abraham and Sarah were as good as dead when they conceived this precious child, somehow, Abraham thinks, I will do this act, and I will return with my son, for from him, from Isaac alone, will come the descendants that God has promised to me.
Beyond being a story that shows us the depths of faith – the willingness to trust in the power and grace of God even in the face of evil and death – Shalom Spiegel sees this narrative as one that instructs and transforms the ancient world. He writes: “It may well be that in the narrative of the ram which Abraham sacrificed as a burnt offering in place of his son, there is historical remembrance of the transition to animal sacrifice from human sacrifice – a religious and moral achievement which in the folk memory was associated with Abraham's name, the father of the new faith and first of the upright in the Lord's way.” (page 64, The Last Trial, Shalom Spiegel)
Rabbi Spiegel goes on to say how long it took for this transition to take root because in times of great crisis, the reflex was to believe that only such a sacrifice, the surrender of one's own flesh and blood, would win the favour of a deity. And indeed we remember how the Hebrew prophets cried out against the spilling of human blood as means of propitiating God – in fact, the later prophets speak of God's disinterest even in the blood of bulls – it is the converted heart, the deeds of loving kindness, the fulfillment of justice tempered by mercy that God desires as a sacrifice.
It is important to know and acknowledge this historical practice of sacrifice. It is important to know that within the tradition which shaped Jesus' world-view there is a profoundly radical faith in the utter reliability of God.
The Jewish scholar can see similarities between the Binding of Isaac and the Crucifixion of Jesus. But given his faith tradition he chooses to focus on the differences and in doing so, part ways with us. I feel deeply indebted to faithful Jews who have safeguarded sacred story for us, who have allowed themselves to be shaped by a God who would relate to them through the establishment of laws and order, rather than through magic and manipulation. They have made room for our faith to take place.
There is an ancient tradition that states that the faithfulness of Abraham, the faithfulness of Isaac inspire God's mercy for their heirs –
The sages speak of God moving from the throne of Judgment over to the Throne of Mercy whenever the Akedah, the Binding of Isaac, is invoked.
It seems to me that this is very similar to our understanding of Jesus' life, death and resurrection. When we are baptized, we share in his death and resurrection. In A New Creed (of the United Church of Canada) the faithful speak of Christ who is “our Judge and our Hope.” When we call upon God in the name of Jesus, God crosses over from the Throne of Justice to the Mercy seat. God surrenders the right to condemn us for our violations of relationship.
When we share the bread of heaven, the cup of salvation, there are centuries of meaning associated with them which enrich the elements... we recall the manna in the wilderness, we recall the spilled blood of the passover and the protection offered to the faithful -
in this story of the binding of Isaac we come to understand that this event, associated as it is with the ancient memory of a springtime new year, also plays a part - ever so slowly God is instilling within us an awareness of the preciousness of life, and God's relationship with us.
There is no need to appease God with the spilling of blood –
it was never God's intention for us in the first place.
Breaking through our ignorance and fear, God has found a way to bring us from sacrifices of the first born, through the sacrifices of animals, through the sacrifice of the Son of God, to this sacrifice of thanksgiving and praise.
When we eat the bread, when we drink the cup we share in the depth of God's love which knows no bounds. Sinful or broken though we might be, we surrender the influences of the world that tempt us to doubt God's presence, or diminish our understanding of God's love and mercy. We come to the table and find belonging, we are not inhibited by our unworthiness because God's compassion is greater than any of our sins.
The bread become body, the wine or fruit of the vine become blood: these speak to our embodied spirits. God understands the complexity of our being both physical and spiritual. We are given tangible elements enlivened by God's spirit to sustain us, to nurture us body and soul, and bring us back into balanced relationship with God, with one another, and ourselves. In this way too, we participate in the life, death and resurrection of our Saviour Jesus Christ. Strengthened by our communion, we walk in the footsteps of Abraham and Jesus, we surrender the fears that distract us, and trust in the gracious power of God to guide and preserve us.
