sermon-2010-04-02
Posted on April 30, 2010 by admin No comments
Sermons
May the words spoken and heard here this evening be spoken and heard in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen. Lent began with the story of Jesus alone in the wilderness struggling with his own questions of how best he should fulfill his mission. The struggle with his questions was presented as his being tempted by the devil. Now, near the end of our Lenten journey we find Jesus again alone, this time in the Garden of Gethsemane, again being tempted, this time by Jesus asking himself if he needs to die. The metaphor of this temptation in the synoptic Gospels is his question whether he needs to drink this cup. Then he resists the temptation and answers his own question: not what I want, Father, but what you want. As background to this temptation in the Garden of Gethsemane we just heard read the moving and poignant story of God’s testing of Abraham. The story is one in which a father must choose between his love for his only son and his commitment to God. The story is a story of sacrifice, though in the final moment God does not require Isaac to be the sacrifice. And the story is about faith and commitment. Tonight as we remember in somber tones the sacrifice and death of another only Son, the story of Abraham and Isaac takes on special meaning. The story of Abraham and Isaac introduces the pattern of commitment, namely that commitment to God involves sacrifice. The sacrifice that commitment to God requires is not the death of another, not the life of Isaac. The sacrifice that commitment to God involves is the abandonment of the comfort of certainty. It is not given either to Abraham or Isaac to know for certain that God would provide a ram in the thicket. Like Jesus in his temptations all that Abraham and his son have are questions. Isaac’s question about where is the ram to be sacrificed is answered first by his father’s faith and finally by God’s actions. But what do we know of Abraham’s questions? What about those painful questions of conflicting loves that must certainly have haunted his heart, as they haunt the hearts of all persons at some time in their lives. Though Abraham does not give voice to these questions, they must have been present. In all temptations, there are always difficult questions, little certainty and, worst of all, the silence of God. In Our Lord’s temptation in the wilderness god is silent. In Our lord’s temptation in the Garden, God is silent. Only after Abraham has struggled with his questions and chosen a course of action that reveals his total commitment to God, does God break his silence. There is a pattern here. All commitment involves the sacrifice of certainty and all commitment demands living with the questions of life in the silence of one’s own heart. We see this pattern repeated in many biblical stories about being tested. Take Job. Job’s testing is long and intense. His heart is filled with questions. Unsatisfied with conventional answers to his questions, Job rages at God and shoots his questions like arrows at God. At first God is silent; then finally from the whirlwind comes God’s response: not answers but further questions. Job struggles with these new questions and finally acknowledges that he cannot answer them and thus have total certainty. At that moment of acceptance of uncertainty he declares his heartfelt commitment to God. The same pattern of commitment reappears in Elie Wiesel’s personal struggle with the question of God’s silence throughout the Holocaust. In the midst of so monstrous an evil, he asks, why was God’s voice not heard,? He finally resolves his struggle with the profound insight that the silence of God is God. It is not the nature of God always to speak, always to give answers to the questions that haunt our hearts. God’s silence is not an indication that he condoned the slaughter of millions any more that it indicated He condoned the sacrifice of Isaac. God’s silence is part of our testing, part of the pattern of commitment. In Letters to a Young Poet Ranier Marie Rilke captures beautifully the feeling of the sacrifice of certainty and the need to struggle with silence. Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart And the point is to live everything All temptations, all testing of commitment involves questions. To experience the anguish of these questions is to be human. To grapple with these questions is to be courageous. To shun these questions and seek a lesser certainty is to abandon hope. To “live the questions now.” is to embark on a journey of faith, for questions are the soil from which answers we seek will eventually arise. At the start of any journey we, no more than Abraham or Isaac, can know what these answers will be. The Bible tells of another testing in which a Father’s son is sacrificed and during which the voice of God is absent. In his final dark hour Jesus’ last words come as a wrenching question Eloi, Eloi lama sabachthani: My God, My god why has thou forsaken me? There is no answer. In the silence that ensues Jesus dies, his final question unanswered. He lived and died with the question. Because of his commitment, His willingness to live the question, we who live in a distant day can begin to live into the answer. The pattern is clear. Any movement toward commitment to another person or to God brings questions of conflicting loyalties. Any movement toward commitment is an inward journey of the heart during which each of us, alone and in silence, is challenged to grapple with questions. There is no certainty that even after the silent struggle all questions will be answered. Yet, without the questions and without the struggle there can be no act of faith, no commitment, and ultimately no fulfillment to life. Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart And the point is to live everything |
Sermon preached by the Reverend Richard Tombaugh