To Be Passed Over
Sermon
Sermons On The First Readings
Series II, Cycle A
Object:
This ancient story comes down the centuries to us with power. The instructions are clear; the process plain. God is preparing to "pass through" the land of Egypt and this is one time when we would prefer that God pass us by altogether. The blood of the lamb is smeared on the doorpost so that God will know which ones are Egyptians and which ones are not.
I was reading this passage to the children and one of them raised a sheepish hand and asked these questions: "If God is God and knows everything, wouldn't God also know which houses were which? Why would God need the blood of the lamb?" The best questions always come out of the mouths of innocents.
Indeed. Why does God require the blood of the lamb? It is a multilayered and deep question. The more we think about it, the more dense it becomes. Why would God require this blood sacrifice as (he) prepares to liberate the people of Israel? And, as we look to this night as a people rooted in Jesus Christ, we are led to ask again, "Why does God require sacrifice? Why the blood of this lamb? This Jesus?"
How are we to gauge this God? How are we to understand this holy presence that requires sacrifice? It seems to make no sense.
For twenty-first-century North Americans, sacrifice is an unfamiliar thing. Few people living in the United States today have been asked to sacrifice much of anything. We tend to view it as something unpleasant and to be avoided. But it is a concept that we ought to rediscover.
To sacrifice is to give up something of importance to someone (or something) that is greater than you. A parent who forgoes a job promotion in order to keep children in the good school they are attending makes a sacrifice. A spouse or partner who scrimps and saves so that the other can attend school makes a sacrifice. We also understand this in times of war when a soldier gives up his or her life to save comrades. This is a sacrifice.
This much we understand. But when it comes to God, things get a little trickier, because for us, sacrifice and worship are very closely connected. In our earliest Hebrew traditions, sacrifice was at the core of worship. The people prostrated themselves before Yahweh and offered sacrificial offerings of food and livestock. For these people, this wasn't a check made out for an amount of money that would not be missed. It was an offering of something important to them. Food!
As Christians standing in this long line of tradition, history, and faith, we claim this God of Israel as our God, our Maker, our Redeemer. This is God. This is the one who comes to us in Christ Jesus and sits this night at table preparing to sacrifice (him)self for us! If we truly believe this, how can we do anything but fall on our knees and offer up, not just a snack, but our whole lives?
You see, it turns out that it's not so much about God demanding a sacrifice as it is that sacrifice is part and parcel of what it means to love. Sacrifice is integral to what it means to worship. Sacrifice is woven into the fabric of how we understand God.
Throughout biblical literature, of course, we see a maturing sense of this understanding. From the blood sacrifices of old to the "living sacrifice" that Paul calls the church to become (Romans 12:1), we travel an arc of revelation and learning. But the point and the concept remain clear. We give sacrificially of ourselves to that which we honor, that which we perceive to be greater than ourselves.
On this night of nights, this celebration of being passed over by God, let us reach for a new and deeper understanding of sacrifice. As God prepares in Christ Jesus to give himself up for us, let us prepare to give ourselves to God. As we come to table ourselves this night, let us stand in awe before the love of God and renew our promise to love one another.
And as we rise to leave this place, let us contemplate, let us pray, let us consider what it might mean to truly become a "living sacrifice," giving -- not just a few hours or a few dollars -- but our lives to God. Amen.
I was reading this passage to the children and one of them raised a sheepish hand and asked these questions: "If God is God and knows everything, wouldn't God also know which houses were which? Why would God need the blood of the lamb?" The best questions always come out of the mouths of innocents.
Indeed. Why does God require the blood of the lamb? It is a multilayered and deep question. The more we think about it, the more dense it becomes. Why would God require this blood sacrifice as (he) prepares to liberate the people of Israel? And, as we look to this night as a people rooted in Jesus Christ, we are led to ask again, "Why does God require sacrifice? Why the blood of this lamb? This Jesus?"
How are we to gauge this God? How are we to understand this holy presence that requires sacrifice? It seems to make no sense.
For twenty-first-century North Americans, sacrifice is an unfamiliar thing. Few people living in the United States today have been asked to sacrifice much of anything. We tend to view it as something unpleasant and to be avoided. But it is a concept that we ought to rediscover.
To sacrifice is to give up something of importance to someone (or something) that is greater than you. A parent who forgoes a job promotion in order to keep children in the good school they are attending makes a sacrifice. A spouse or partner who scrimps and saves so that the other can attend school makes a sacrifice. We also understand this in times of war when a soldier gives up his or her life to save comrades. This is a sacrifice.
This much we understand. But when it comes to God, things get a little trickier, because for us, sacrifice and worship are very closely connected. In our earliest Hebrew traditions, sacrifice was at the core of worship. The people prostrated themselves before Yahweh and offered sacrificial offerings of food and livestock. For these people, this wasn't a check made out for an amount of money that would not be missed. It was an offering of something important to them. Food!
As Christians standing in this long line of tradition, history, and faith, we claim this God of Israel as our God, our Maker, our Redeemer. This is God. This is the one who comes to us in Christ Jesus and sits this night at table preparing to sacrifice (him)self for us! If we truly believe this, how can we do anything but fall on our knees and offer up, not just a snack, but our whole lives?
You see, it turns out that it's not so much about God demanding a sacrifice as it is that sacrifice is part and parcel of what it means to love. Sacrifice is integral to what it means to worship. Sacrifice is woven into the fabric of how we understand God.
Throughout biblical literature, of course, we see a maturing sense of this understanding. From the blood sacrifices of old to the "living sacrifice" that Paul calls the church to become (Romans 12:1), we travel an arc of revelation and learning. But the point and the concept remain clear. We give sacrificially of ourselves to that which we honor, that which we perceive to be greater than ourselves.
On this night of nights, this celebration of being passed over by God, let us reach for a new and deeper understanding of sacrifice. As God prepares in Christ Jesus to give himself up for us, let us prepare to give ourselves to God. As we come to table ourselves this night, let us stand in awe before the love of God and renew our promise to love one another.
And as we rise to leave this place, let us contemplate, let us pray, let us consider what it might mean to truly become a "living sacrifice," giving -- not just a few hours or a few dollars -- but our lives to God. Amen.
