Village Shepherd

Some while ago there was a tragic but interesting story which made the headlines in the national press. It concerned two parents and their relationship with their twenty-something son. The son was a drug addict who needed money to support his habit. When he needed money, he would often show up at home and his parents came to dread his visits. He had become increasingly violent and both his parents were afraid of him. They had done all they could to help him. They had pleaded with him, they had lent him money which was never repaid, they had taken him to rehabilitation centres. On one occasion his mother had even taken him to his drug dealer herself and had administered the syringe, because he was so ill that she feared for his life. The crunch finally came when the parents arrived home after a day out to discover that in their brief absence their son had sold their television, stereo system, DVD and all their furniture. With an empty house and nowhere even to sit down, the parents had finally rung the police and shopped their son, who eventually received a prison sentence.

Public reaction to the story was mixed. Some people thought the parents had done the right thing and should have done it years earlier, but others were shocked at their treachery. They asked how any parents who claimed to love their son could possibly set events in motion which would send him to prison? Was the action of the parents an act of tough love, or an act of supreme treachery?

When Abraham took his son Isaac up the mountain, then bound him and laid him on a pile of wood on an altar, ready to sacrifice him, was it an act of treachery or an act of tough love?

For limited periods in early human history, child sacrifice was practised in many religions. At this period of around 2000 BC, it was practised by the tribes which neighboured Israel, but very often an animal was substituted for the human sacrifice, just as in the story of Abraham and Isaac. In Israel itself, sacrifice of the first born son was demanded (Exodus 22:29, 34:19), but redemption of that sacrifice was also demanded (Exodus 13:13, 34:20). Later on, by the time Leviticus was written, the law was more forceful, for the sacrifice of the firstborn son was forbidden on pain of death (Leviticus 18:21, 20:2-5). And whenever child sacrifice is mentioned in the Old Testament, it is condemned.

The story of Abraham and Isaac is a dramatic way of explaining the law and makes it very clear to the people that no matter what the surrounding tribes might do, there must be no child sacrifice in Israel. But if the story is read with 20th century minds, it sounds horrific and raises all sorts of questions about both God's love and Abraham's love.

How could a God of love give Sarah and Abraham a dearly loved and much desired son after years of barrenness, only to snatch the boy away again before he'd even reached adolescence? Sarah had waited years for a son and we're told that she produced Isaac when she was well past her child-bearing years, which implies that the child was a miracle sent by God. How could God produce a miracle for Sarah and Abraham - and their hearts' desire - only to demand the return of that miracle a few years later?

And if God never intended that the sacrifice should be carried out, but only told Abraham to sacrifice Isaac in order to test Abraham's faith, wasn't this a viciously cruel test? How could a God of love put those parents through such agony? Come to that, how could Abraham respond without even questioning God? After all, in another story Abraham wasn't slow to bargain with God (Genesis 18:23-33), but in this story of the sacrifice of Isaac, Abraham never murmurs but coolly sets off to do what he considers to be God's will.

Perhaps Abraham made an assumption. Perhaps it didn't occur to Abraham to question the sacrifice of his firstborn son, because that's what people did - sacrificed their firstborn to God. Perhaps the custom was so ingrained in the national psyche that it was never considered or questioned, but always assumed to be God's will. Since it's always notoriously difficult to accurately hear God's voice, perhaps Abraham got it wrong. Maybe he thought - or assumed - that God told him to sacrifice his son, but actually only heard his own thoughts framed within the culture of his day.

There are parallels in every age. In the 18th century, slavery was such an acceptable part of life for most wealthy people, that many Christians not only never questioned that it was God's will, but even found Biblical support for it. In the 20th century in the UK, the acceptance of capital punishment was an ingrained part of the national psyche, as was corporal punishment of children. Even today some right wing Christian groups still lobby for the return of both, but in centuries to come people will probably look back at the 20th century with horror because of those two inhumane punishments.

What about our own century? One of the hot topics on the church agenda is our attitude to homosexuals. Homophobia has been instituted by law over previous centuries, so it's not surprising that many people today believe it to be abhorrent to God and against God's will. But what do we hear God say about it? Do we hear God speak in our words or in God's own words?

Abraham has always been rightly revered because of the depth of his faith. But he was also open enough to hear God's very surprising and unexpected voice - surprising and unexpected because it was against the social norm - and to act upon it. So perhaps after all that's all we need to do - to act in the way we believe to be right but to keep listening for God's voice and to be open enough to change our mind if God nudges us in a different direction.

And perhaps if we're able to do that, we too will be people of unshakable faith.