What God takes: 2nd Sunday Lent

I read a piece by a writer who was explaining why he could never be a Jew or a Christian.  Though he found certain elements of these religions really attractive, he pointed to Genesis 22 as a deal breaker. He wanted nothing to do with any God who would ask a father to sacrifice his son. He couldn’t believe in such a God and wouldn’t want to worship Him if he did.

It’s not so hard to sympathize. But I wished there was some way I could write to him and suggest that perhaps he didn’t read all the way to the end. Isn’t it more the point of the story that God didn’t ask Abraham to sacrifice Isaac? Especially if you know the context, that the Canaanite religions all around Abraham and his descendants did practice human sacrifice, as have many religions through history. But the God of Abraham lets it be known here on Mt. Moriah that this is not worship, this is not devotion, this is not what He wants. It’s not a story about God asking something horrible, but a promise that He doesn’t. 

Well and good, but why the cruel drama? Couldn’t God have just sort of told Abraham this important truth without such a wrenching and horrific demonstration? So maybe there’s something incredibly important here, and maybe God is teaching us more than just a prohibition on human sacrifice. 

The story of Abraham and Isaac on Mount Moriah goes right to the heart of a particular kind of religious terror: if we are the creatures of an eternal God who made us out of nothing, who has given us existence without any merit or claim on our part to deserve it, then God’s claim on our lives is absolute. “But I can’t imagine a loving God asking a father to sacrifice his son this way.” You don’t have to. He never has and He never will.

I hope you sitting there don’t need to be convinced that God isn’t into human sacrifice, though there are people we should pray come to realize that. But if we broaden the question, I think you’ll find it hits close to home after all. The story of Abraham and Isaac is a limit case, the most extreme example we could possibly imagine, of a fear everyone has known: What does God take from us? 

There is something scary about acknowledging a God with a total claim on your life. It’s no wonder Jesus was constantly telling people not to be afraid! What will He ask? What will He take? What will we lose? The story of Abraham and Isaac should be our assurance: total devotion to God, being willing to offer anything to God, does not leave us broken, grieved, and horrified. What we offer to God comes back to us glorified. It’s important that the story ends with God promising Abraham descendants like the stars of the sky or the sands on the seashore. Abraham entrusts his posterity to God, and God multiplies it beyond his imagination.

I’m convinced a lot of young men whom God calls to be priests miss their vocation because of just the kind of fear we’re talking about. They are afraid that what is offered to God will be taken from them; they see a priestly vocation in terms of what they think they’ll lose. I think a lot of young women called to religious life never even consider it, because in that unspeakably beautiful offering to God they see only what they think they’ll lose. The unborn we sacrifice in this country every day are sacrificed not to gain anything good, but out of fear of what we think we’ll lose if we turn it all over to God. The Catholic couple who resign themselves to artificial contraception, the couple who play house but can’t commit to the Sacrament of Marriage, the Catholics beyond number who practice their faith with a sort of one-foot-in, one-foot-out approach, it’s all the same story. I’m throwing out some examples but don’t make this about what other people do! Ask the Holy Spirit to reveal to you what you’re holding back from God, what you’re clinging to, what you’re afraid to let God touch. We draw a line somewhere regarding what we’re willing to put in God’s hands, because we’re afraid of what God will take from us. The story of Abraham and Isaac puts before us a limit case of this fear, the worst imaginable. But God doesn’t take - He just gives, and gives, and gives. And the more we place in His hands, the more we learn that “God is not outdone in generosity.”

Which brings us to the Transfiguration. Like Abraham, Jesus ascends a mountain, and on Mount Tabor again we learn something about the true nature of God. “This is my Beloved Son, listen to Him.”

He is not a God who asks for Abraham’s son, but a God who offers us His own. He is a God who gives us His Son, even to death. We might wonder if that’s really an advance… and not just another repetition of the cycle, death for death… but Jesus ends this passage talking about His Resurrection and that’s the difference. That’s the circle of violence broken, where justice and mercy kiss. When God placed His own Son in place of Isaac, in place of us all, it was not the undoing of the Son but the undoing of death. What was offered to God came back glorified. That’s why we hang the crucifix all over the place as a sign of contradiction that makes sense of everything: here is what appears to be a man who’s lost everything. The truth is: here is a man who has given everything to the Father, Who knows that the Father will not be outdone in generosity, Who drinks the offered chalice, commends His spirit, and conquers Hell.

St. Paul is ecstatic, enraptured by this as he writes to the Romans,

  If God is for us, who can be against us?
  He who did not spare his own Son 
  but handed him over for us all, 
  how will he not also give us everything else along with him?
  Who will bring a charge against God’s chosen ones?
  It is God who acquits us, who will condemn?
  Christ Jesus it is who died—or, rather, was raised
  who also is at the right hand of God, 
  who indeed intercedes for us.

What an incredible thing to realize… that God is on our side. Just drive around thinking that over for awhile. Let it shatter any fears you have, any hesitation to give your life over to God. Are you going to draw a line in your life and tell God what He can’t have, or can you trust Him with it all? Don’t use God as an excuse for recklessness, but ask Him in prayer how you can give yourself more completely to Him, trust Him more absolutely. Even if it’s scary, even if it looks like losing something you need… no one ever trusted God and wished they hadn’t.

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