A willingness to listen

I lead daily prayer a lot, but it's not often I get to lead a Sunday service at the Church at Carrs Lane. When I do, it usually involves paint ... but that doesn't work so well in online worship, so this time, it didn't.

The Old Testament lectionary reading for today was the story of Abraham's non-sacrifice of Isaac (Genesis 22:1-14), a story I think is particularly rich on all sorts of levels. Too rich, and too deep to address everything in one five minute reflection. Anyway, I thought I'd share my reflection from the service here too.  

At the beginning of this story, Abraham knows what God wants of him. He understands there will be a huge cost: a commitment of time and physical energy, but above all a huge emotional cost. He says yes to this call of God and sets of on this journey.

And then, at a certain point, after much of this emotional and physical energy has already been expended, God says, Stop. I require something different of you now.

We don’t know, the text doesn’t tell us, whether Abraham had completely misunderstood the original call: there is a strong part of me likes to think so, I struggle with the idea of God that God would demand child sacrifice; but perhaps actually God did need Abraham to engage with this, albeit destructive, aspect of the community in which he lived, of the culture which surrounded him.

I wonder whether it matters which is true: either way, what we do know is neither God nor Abraham condemn themselves or each other for the journey, the expenditure of energy and emotional angst which has brought them to this point. All of this is held as part of the story with no value judgment cast.

I wonder whether what really matters, what makes Abraham such an important father of faith for three major world religions is his willingness, both here and in other stories about him, to continue to listen, to be open to changing direction, to setting off on new paths.

This is a story from an ancient culture so far removed from our own and yet I wonder whether, in fact, it speaks more deeply into and about our own experiences than is immediately apparent.

I wonder whether many of us have in fact had, or even perhaps are having, parallel experiences. I hope, I really hope, that no-one listening to this feels God has asked them to sacrifice a child. But I hope, too, many of us feel God has called us down paths which have cost us something: towards things which have demanded our time and energy, demanded our emotional investment. I hope, many of us have been willing to respond to those calls, to set off on those journeys towards those mountains.

I wonder how easily Abraham heard God say stop. From this distance it is easy to think, well of course, any hint that he should not sacrifice his child he was going to leap at. I wonder whether it was  really that simple. I wonder how tempted he was, given all it had already cost him, given the emotional investment in this path he was on, I wonder how tempted he was just to carry on along that path, I wonder how tempted he was to close his ears to whatever other messages God might now speak.

I wonder how tempted we are, sometimes, to do the same. To be so invested in something, to know so definitely that the journey was sanctioned by God that we close our ears to the whispered voice that might say stop. I require something different of you now.

When Abraham heard that voice say stop, I wonder if he felt like it wasted all of that energy, all of that effort, all of that time, all of that emotion. I wonder whether we ever struggle to listen to a God who is asking something new, for fear of wasting all that went before.

But Abraham dared to listen. He dared to respond. He dared to change direction. And in doing so it did, ultimately, offer something infinitely better, infinitely more beautiful. I wonder whether, if we are willing to keep listening, to hear God sometimes ask us to stop and change direction, we too will discover something infinitely better, infinitely more beautiful.

You can watch the whole service, which also includes music and singing from friends with far more talent than me, and contributions from some very cute children, here: