blind faith Archives - Gerry Lynch: Priest, Writer, Photographer

Preached at St Peter’s, Ovington and Holy Cross, Seend

Genesis 22. 1-18; Matthew 10. 40-42

“Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest … and offer him … for a burnt offering…”

A large square oil painting dominated by expansive fields of blue, yellow, red, and green. In the lower centre-right, an elderly bearded man in red and brown robes kneels and looks upward, his right hand raised and gripping a knife. Beneath him, a younger man lies prostrate on the ground, clothed in yellow, his face turned outward toward the viewer. A large blue winged angel descends diagonally from the upper centre of the composition, one arm extended downward toward the knife. To the upper left, a green tree stands before a pale blue background, with two small crouching figures sheltering at its base. In the upper right, rendered in darker, earthier tones, a crowd of figures surrounds a crucifixion scene, with a cross visible at its centre. The background throughout is loosely worked in swirling washes of white, yellow, pink, and blue. A signature appears in the lower left corner. — *Marc Chagall, The Sacrifice of Isaac (1960-6), hangs in the National Marc Chagall Gallery, Nice.*

If God is merciful, why do men sacrifice their children to their gods? Today’s pairing of readings, seemingly so awkward and contradictory, is linked by the common theme of God’s mercy, and asks us how we should share God’s mercy with those around us.

The story of Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice Isaac is at once gripping and repulsive. The temptation is, as always with the more difficult Old Testament texts, to distance it from our own modern condition, because we would never do anything as crazy or barbaric as sacrificing our children for God, would we?

The conventional way to read the story of Abraham is that his faith is being put to the test, and that’s what the text itself pushes us towards. At the end of this passage, the angel of the Lord says explicitly that because of Abraham’s iron faith, God’s promise to him so long ago that his descendants would be as numerous as the stars has been confirmed.

But here’s the thing – the story was clearly strange and fearful also for people of its own time, as much as for us. Although Abraham is acting on a commandment of God, there is something furtive about his behaviour. At no point on their three-day trudge to the place of sacrifice does Abraham explain to his two young servants what is happening, and when they arrive, he leaves them behind, plainly lying to them about what he is about to do with Isaac.

He also lies directly to the boy about what is about to happen – when Isaac innocently asks where the sacrificial lamb is, Abraham replies that the Lord will provide one. But that’s not what Abraham thinks is about to happen – Abraham thinks he’s about to kill his own son, and won’t tell him the truth.

So there is a shadow of dissembling resting over this story. Abraham may have passed a test of faith set by God, but it’s as if he knows there’s something shameful about the way he’s done it. Shouldn’t Abraham have asked if God would really have demanded he embark on a course of action that he had to lie about to those closest to him? Was there a better way to be faithful? Surely, we should always ask hard questions if someone is asking us to sacrifice our children.