Proper 8
Preaching
Preaching and Reading the Old Testament Lessons
With an Eye to the New
We must not water down this text. It has often been said that coming from a pagan Mesopotamia background, Abraham mistakenly believed that God wanted him to sacrifice Isaac. And once even the wife of Martin Luther objected, "Martin, I don't believe God would ask anyone to sacrifice his only son." But the text is to be taken quite seriously. "God tested Abraham." And that test comes after "these things." Well, what things? Certainly Abraham's initial doubt that God could give him a son in his old age, and Abraham's admonition to the Lord to do right, in chapter 19, and his need to be corrected by God in the story of Hagar and Ishmael. Abraham's faith is on the line in this story in Genesis 22, and the question is: Will he pass the test?
The emotional depth of this story can only be sensed by reading it slowly and aloud, with emphasis on the repetitions. Repeatedly we find "your son," "his son," "my father," "they went both of them together." The language is sparse and unsentimental, but the repetitions leave no doubt of the love between the innocent son and his anguished father. Not a word is said about Sarah or about how Abraham and Isaac feel, but we cannot read the story carefully and not know how they feel.
Yet, Abraham in obedience to God's command, rises early and saddles his ass, and taking two of his servants and a bundle of wood for the burnt offering, sets out with his son, his only son Isaac, to go to the land of Moriah where there is a mountain of sacrifice. In tenderness up to the end, Abraham himself carries the fire and the knife, lest the young boy hurt himself with them. And his faith, in answer to Isaac's wondering question is, "God himself will provide the lamb for a burnt offering, my son."
The sacrifice is not carried out, because God provides a word of halt and a substituting ram, and Abraham is shown to have passed the test of his faith. The question was: Whom does Abraham trust? He has been granted the gift of Isaac in fulfillment of God's promise. But now does he trust the gift and cling to Isaac, in defiance of God, or does he trust the Giver? Does he trust that God knows what he is doing and is keeping his promise of descendants? Because Abraham finally trusts God, the promise of the Lord to him is renewed (cf. Genesis 12:1-3), and Abraham becomes the progenitor of all of the covenant people, including you and me.
That same test of trust was what our Lord faced too in the Garden of Gethsemane. As the cross lay before him, did he trust that his Father knew what he was doing in asking his sacrifice? When Martin Luther's wife objected to God's demand that Abraham sacrifice his only son, Luther replied, "But, Katie, God did." And the story of the sacrifice of Jesus is very similar to this one in Genesis. Legend has it that Moriah became the site of Jerusalem. And like Isaac, Jesus journeyed to Moriah in the company of his Father. But there is little there too that the Father and Son say to one another on the journey -- only that prayer in the garden, "Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me." The answer Jesus receives is the same as Isaac's: "The sacrifice must be carried out, my Son." Like Isaac, Jesus carries the wood up the hill, until he is relieved of the burden by Simon of Cyrene. Like Isaac, Jesus is laid out upon the wood. And as the knife was raised above Isaac, so the hammer is raised above Jesus. But there is no substituting ram to save our Lord from the awful death, no rescuing Elijah, no miraculous descent from the torture of the cross.
Our question to both Genesis 22 and to the story of the crucifixion is: Why? And the answer is the same in both instances. God is carrying out his purpose of saving his world. Through Abraham's faith, God can continue his work of salvation with Israel. And with Christ's death and resurrection, God can bring the story to its climax, overcoming by the cross and empty tomb our sin and our death.
Lutheran Option: Jeremiah 28:5-9
The setting of this text is in Jerusalem, shortly after 597 B.C., when the armies of Babylonia have conquered Jerusalem and carried off most of its leaders, artisans, warriors, and upper class to exile in Babylonia, along with an enormous booty and the temple treasures. The davidic king Jehoichin has been replaced on the throne by the puppet Zedekiah, Judah's territory has been greatly reduced, and she is left with virtually no political leaders or economic resources. Intrigue and insurrection against the Babylonian yoke are rife in the capital city, however, fed by a pro-Egyptian party, and by popular prophets.
One of those prophets is Hananiah, who is telling the people that within two years, Babylonia will be defeated and all of the exiles and treasures will be returned to Judah (Jeremiah 28:1-4). The prophet Jeremiah, on the other hand, knows that the exile is God's judgment on Judah's sinful ways and that the exile will be long. Therefore Jeremiah writes a letter to the exiles in Babylonia, urging them to settle down there, to build houses and plant gardens, to intermarry with the foreigners, and even to pray for Babylonia, for God can be found in Babylonia as well as in Jerusalem (Jeremiah 29:1-14). To symbolize the fact that the Judeans should submit to Babylonia and not revolt, Jeremiah is commanded to wear a wooden yoke on his neck (Jeremiah 27:1-12). Hananiah, however, breaks the yoke, whereupon Jeremiah replaces it with a yoke of iron (28:10-17).
Two emphases run through our text. First is the refusal of the prophet Hananiah and of the Judeans to admit their sin and thus to understand their defeat by Babylonia as the judgment of God. That is a familiar view among us, is it not, to refuse to see any calamity as God's judgment on our sin? Indeed, it is very hard for us even to admit that we have done wrong. Right and wrong are relative terms these days, and when we or others commit wrong, we often rationalize it as a mistake or a "goof," or as the result of circumstances at the time. Maybe we or the perpetrator were tired, or had been drinking or were on drugs. Maybe someone else was a bad influence, or our parents didn't raise us right. Maybe the poor environment was the cause, and there should be a massive government spending program to correct that. We are not to blame. It's someone else's responsibility, and of course, God won't judge us for that. But we daily experience the judgment of God in our wrecked marriages, our crime-ridden cities, our children gone awry, our sex-saturated society. We are responsible to God for what we do, as Judah was responsible. And we cannot escape the effects of that.
The second emphasis of our text rises from the first and concerns the validity of the Word of God. Hananiah has been prophesying peace, harmony, good to the people, and Jeremiah is willing to say that perhaps Hananiah is correct. But there is a test of that word of prophecy: Does it come to pass? Is that what the Judeans are going to receive? The implication of course is that the true Word of God is always fulfilled, and so the Judeans can tell the difference between the true and the false prophet by their fruits (cf. Matthew 7:16).
Jeremiah knows that the false prophets through the years have been preaching, "peace, peace," when there is no peace with God (Jeremiah 6:14; 8:11). And he also knows that the people are responsible to God for their sins. Thus the text stands as a warning to all of us to "beware of false prophets, who come to (us) in sheep's clothing" (Matthew 7:15). Beware of those who tell you that you can have the good life, success, happiness from God without the necessity of confessing or even acknowledging your sins and your responsibility to God for them. A lot of the religious messages we hear these days from the false prophets of our time are designed just to make us feel good about ourselves. But does God feel good about you and what you do? That is the question to ask.
The emotional depth of this story can only be sensed by reading it slowly and aloud, with emphasis on the repetitions. Repeatedly we find "your son," "his son," "my father," "they went both of them together." The language is sparse and unsentimental, but the repetitions leave no doubt of the love between the innocent son and his anguished father. Not a word is said about Sarah or about how Abraham and Isaac feel, but we cannot read the story carefully and not know how they feel.
Yet, Abraham in obedience to God's command, rises early and saddles his ass, and taking two of his servants and a bundle of wood for the burnt offering, sets out with his son, his only son Isaac, to go to the land of Moriah where there is a mountain of sacrifice. In tenderness up to the end, Abraham himself carries the fire and the knife, lest the young boy hurt himself with them. And his faith, in answer to Isaac's wondering question is, "God himself will provide the lamb for a burnt offering, my son."
The sacrifice is not carried out, because God provides a word of halt and a substituting ram, and Abraham is shown to have passed the test of his faith. The question was: Whom does Abraham trust? He has been granted the gift of Isaac in fulfillment of God's promise. But now does he trust the gift and cling to Isaac, in defiance of God, or does he trust the Giver? Does he trust that God knows what he is doing and is keeping his promise of descendants? Because Abraham finally trusts God, the promise of the Lord to him is renewed (cf. Genesis 12:1-3), and Abraham becomes the progenitor of all of the covenant people, including you and me.
That same test of trust was what our Lord faced too in the Garden of Gethsemane. As the cross lay before him, did he trust that his Father knew what he was doing in asking his sacrifice? When Martin Luther's wife objected to God's demand that Abraham sacrifice his only son, Luther replied, "But, Katie, God did." And the story of the sacrifice of Jesus is very similar to this one in Genesis. Legend has it that Moriah became the site of Jerusalem. And like Isaac, Jesus journeyed to Moriah in the company of his Father. But there is little there too that the Father and Son say to one another on the journey -- only that prayer in the garden, "Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me." The answer Jesus receives is the same as Isaac's: "The sacrifice must be carried out, my Son." Like Isaac, Jesus carries the wood up the hill, until he is relieved of the burden by Simon of Cyrene. Like Isaac, Jesus is laid out upon the wood. And as the knife was raised above Isaac, so the hammer is raised above Jesus. But there is no substituting ram to save our Lord from the awful death, no rescuing Elijah, no miraculous descent from the torture of the cross.
Our question to both Genesis 22 and to the story of the crucifixion is: Why? And the answer is the same in both instances. God is carrying out his purpose of saving his world. Through Abraham's faith, God can continue his work of salvation with Israel. And with Christ's death and resurrection, God can bring the story to its climax, overcoming by the cross and empty tomb our sin and our death.
Lutheran Option: Jeremiah 28:5-9
The setting of this text is in Jerusalem, shortly after 597 B.C., when the armies of Babylonia have conquered Jerusalem and carried off most of its leaders, artisans, warriors, and upper class to exile in Babylonia, along with an enormous booty and the temple treasures. The davidic king Jehoichin has been replaced on the throne by the puppet Zedekiah, Judah's territory has been greatly reduced, and she is left with virtually no political leaders or economic resources. Intrigue and insurrection against the Babylonian yoke are rife in the capital city, however, fed by a pro-Egyptian party, and by popular prophets.
One of those prophets is Hananiah, who is telling the people that within two years, Babylonia will be defeated and all of the exiles and treasures will be returned to Judah (Jeremiah 28:1-4). The prophet Jeremiah, on the other hand, knows that the exile is God's judgment on Judah's sinful ways and that the exile will be long. Therefore Jeremiah writes a letter to the exiles in Babylonia, urging them to settle down there, to build houses and plant gardens, to intermarry with the foreigners, and even to pray for Babylonia, for God can be found in Babylonia as well as in Jerusalem (Jeremiah 29:1-14). To symbolize the fact that the Judeans should submit to Babylonia and not revolt, Jeremiah is commanded to wear a wooden yoke on his neck (Jeremiah 27:1-12). Hananiah, however, breaks the yoke, whereupon Jeremiah replaces it with a yoke of iron (28:10-17).
Two emphases run through our text. First is the refusal of the prophet Hananiah and of the Judeans to admit their sin and thus to understand their defeat by Babylonia as the judgment of God. That is a familiar view among us, is it not, to refuse to see any calamity as God's judgment on our sin? Indeed, it is very hard for us even to admit that we have done wrong. Right and wrong are relative terms these days, and when we or others commit wrong, we often rationalize it as a mistake or a "goof," or as the result of circumstances at the time. Maybe we or the perpetrator were tired, or had been drinking or were on drugs. Maybe someone else was a bad influence, or our parents didn't raise us right. Maybe the poor environment was the cause, and there should be a massive government spending program to correct that. We are not to blame. It's someone else's responsibility, and of course, God won't judge us for that. But we daily experience the judgment of God in our wrecked marriages, our crime-ridden cities, our children gone awry, our sex-saturated society. We are responsible to God for what we do, as Judah was responsible. And we cannot escape the effects of that.
The second emphasis of our text rises from the first and concerns the validity of the Word of God. Hananiah has been prophesying peace, harmony, good to the people, and Jeremiah is willing to say that perhaps Hananiah is correct. But there is a test of that word of prophecy: Does it come to pass? Is that what the Judeans are going to receive? The implication of course is that the true Word of God is always fulfilled, and so the Judeans can tell the difference between the true and the false prophet by their fruits (cf. Matthew 7:16).
Jeremiah knows that the false prophets through the years have been preaching, "peace, peace," when there is no peace with God (Jeremiah 6:14; 8:11). And he also knows that the people are responsible to God for their sins. Thus the text stands as a warning to all of us to "beware of false prophets, who come to (us) in sheep's clothing" (Matthew 7:15). Beware of those who tell you that you can have the good life, success, happiness from God without the necessity of confessing or even acknowledging your sins and your responsibility to God for them. A lot of the religious messages we hear these days from the false prophets of our time are designed just to make us feel good about ourselves. But does God feel good about you and what you do? That is the question to ask.
