After these things God tested Abraham, and said to him, “Abraham!” And he said, “Here am I.” He said, “Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering upon one of the mountains of which I shall tell you.” (Genesis 22:1-18)

In a sermon he gave during an Easter Vigil referring to the above biblical incident, scholar Adam Linton acknowledges how troubling that scripture story is. There was a significant reason that that text was read in his tradition as part of the Easter Vigil:

So, a part of rejoicing in this light – a part of sharing in this victory feast – must be a pondering of that out of which we come. One of my favorite sayings in all the Bible is Moses’ exhortation to the people and Deuteronomy: ‘Remember the long way that the Lord our God has led you‘ (8:2).

I would therefore invite us to turn our attention back for a bit to … the story of the sacrifice of Isaac. …  we need to admit that this has to be one of the most disorienting, dislocating passages in all of the Holy Scriptures: truly a deeply disturbing text.  . . .

Some scholars suggest that an original source for the story may be an explanation account of why ancient Israel, unlike its neighbors, did not practice child sacrifice. But, frankly, this doesn’t help us that much in getting a grip on it, as it is set in the book of Genesis. Even beside the horror of it, what sense can we make of it? Isaac is the long-awaited child of promise: promised by God, nonetheless. Isaac is the one through whom God is going to make good on his commitment to Abraham: to establish a posterity through whom the nations will be blessed. To his aged parents – ‘as good as dead,’ as the Scriptures memorably put it (Rom 4:19, Heb 11:12) – his birth was miraculous.

And then, and then:

God tested Abraham. He said to him, ‘Abraham!’ And he said, ‘Here I am.’ He said, ‘Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains that I shall show you. (Gen 22:2)

What kind of test is this? What kind of deity would ask for it? Why should Abraham have to have been plunged into such an abyss? (FROM THE EAST GATE, pp 11-12)

From many points of view, the story of God demanding Abraham murder his own son makes no sense theologically for Christians or Jews. Is God ordering Abraham to commit the abomination of child sacrifice which God Himself had forbidden? [For example in Leviticus 18:21].  The story makes no theological sense if read literally or historically for it goes against everything else God had legislated for His people. It is only with Christ that we can see that the story has a prototypical and prophetic purpose. It was never intended to be read literally – for Jews or Christians. Only with and in Christ do we understand the story as preparing us for Christ’s own sacrifice on the cross. Without Christ and the Gospel as fulfilling the antitype, the story shows God commanding Abraham to behave as a murderous pagan. Even if the story is said to be only about testing Abraham’s faithful obedience to God, it still portrays God in the most awful way. In the text, Abraham offers us an explanation which we see fulfilled in Christ:

Abraham said, “God will provide himself the lamb for a burnt offering, my son.” (Genesis 22:8)  

Abraham is speaking prophetically, even if he doesn’t yet understand that. We are not being given the model for obedience to God, for Christians would certainly say God does not command us to do evil. Let no one say when he is tempted, “I am tempted by God”; for God cannot be tempted with evil and he himself tempts no one… (James 1:13) Neither God nor we can use evil to accomplish good – St Paul considers that a slanderous charge that some of the opponents of Christ leveled against Christians (Romans 3:8).  Certainly we are not to emulate Abraham’s decision to sacrifice his child by murder. If we lay aside any historicity of the story, we can read it as setting the stage for Christ’s own sacrifice on the cross – which Christ unlike Isaac voluntarily chose to do for our salvation. God is not blood-thirsty. The scripture story does not tell us what Abraham thought about being told to murder his son, as Abraham says very little in this story. And the text does not tell us what all God thought about Abraham – yes a man willing to obey God, but also willing to do evil to do what he thinks will please God.

And God said to Abraham, “As for Sarai your wife, you shall not call her name Sarai, but Sarah shall be her name. I will bless her, and moreover I will give you a son by her; I will bless her, and she shall be a mother of nations; kings of peoples shall come from her.” Then Abraham fell on his face and laughed, and said to himself, “Shall a child be born to a man who is a hundred years old? Shall Sarah, who is ninety years old, bear a child?” (Genesis 17:15-17)

Both Abraham (Genesis 17:17) and Sarah (Genesis 18:11-12) laugh when they hear the news from God that she will give birth to a son. Sarah is very old, well beyond child-bearing years and the prospect of having a baby in her old age seems a bit ludicrous – through her healthy, child-bearing years she had wanted a child and never got pregnant. But now, after menopause, God promises she will have a baby? Seemed laughable to her, though her laugh may also have been her rejoicing.

Although their laughter is described by the same word [Septuagint: egelase], Sarah laughs within herself, while Abraham falls on his face laughing in hysterics. Yet Abraham’s laugh is not challenged by God, while God seems to hear Sarah’s laughter as disbelief. Sarah later (and perhaps a bit defensively) clarifies her laughter as rejoicing: “God has made laughter for me; everyone who hears will laugh over me” (Genesis 21:6)

In Jewish tradition, Abraham’s laughter at this news is called “Abraham’s rejoicing” and it is considered a blessing. And it may be what Christ Himself was referencing:

[Jesus said…] “Your father Abraham rejoiced that he was to see my day; he saw it and was glad.” (John 8:56)

Abraham rejoiced at hearing the news that God was going to give him a son. It is possible that in that moment, Abraham was given a glimpse not just into the birth of his son, Isaac, but also into the birth of his descendant: Jesus Christ. Abraham rejoices because he is permitted a glimpse into God’s plan of salvation through his descendant. God had earlier promised Abraham that all the families on earth would be blessed through him (Genesis 12:3). Now Abraham understands this promise will be fulfilled not directly through him, but rather through one of his descendants. St Paul certainly understood God’s message to Abraham to be part of the Gospel of Jesus Christ: ‘And the scripture, foreseeing that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, preached the gospel beforehand to Abraham, saying, “In you shall all the nations be blessed“‘ (Galatians 3:8; emphasis added). Furthermore, Paul says: “Now the promises were made to Abraham and to his offspring. It does not say, “And to offsprings,” referring to many; but, referring to one, “And to your offspring,” which is Christ (Galatians 3:16; emphasis added).

This is affirmed in Matthew’s genealogy which connects Jesus Christ to Abraham rather than to Adam (as in Luke’s genealogy): “The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham” (Matthew 1:1). Jesus Christ is the son God promised to Abraham through whom everyone in the world is blessed.

Then the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bring forth a Son, and shall call His name JESUS. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Highest; and the Lord God will give Him the throne of His father David. And He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of His kingdom there will be no end.” (Luke 1:30-33)

Here are two quotes from Metropolitan Kallistos Ware, about the Annunciation and about Mary as Theotokos.

The vital importance of freedom can be seen above all in the case of the blessed Virgin Mary, who is – next to the incarnate Christ her Son – the supreme model and icon of what it means to be genuinely human. At the Annunciation, the Archangel does not simply inform the Holy Virgin about God’s plan, but waits for her free and voluntary response: Behold, the handmaiden of the Lord, be it unto me according to thy word (Luke 1: 38). She could have refused. God takes the initiative, but Mary’s willing co-operation is also indispensable. She is not merely a passive tool but an active participant in the work of redemption. Her answer is in no sense a foregone conclusion; and on that freely-given answer depends the whole future of human history. (IN THE IMAGE OF THE FATHER, p 76)

What distinguishes man from the other animals, his privilege as priest of the creation, is to bless God, and to invoke God’s blessing on other persons and things.

As before, the Mother of God at the Annunciation may serve as our icon and example. On receiving the archangel’s message, she answers with an act of thanksgiving: My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior (Luke 1:46-47). Her attitude is one of joyfulness, eucharist, doxology. (IN THE IMAGE OF THE FATHER, p 77)

Now Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law, Jethro, the priest of Midian; and he led his flock to the west side of the wilderness, and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. And the angel of the LORD appeared to him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush; and he looked, and lo, the bush was burning, yet it was not consumed. And Moses said, “I will turn aside and see this great sight, why the bush is not burnt.” When the LORD saw that he turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here am I.” Then he said, “Do not come near; put off your shoes from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” And he said, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God. (Exodus 3:1-6)

Many Church Fathers were certain that any appearance of God on earth reported in the Jewish Scriptures was actually an encounter with Christ. Moses in the burning bush therefore encounters and speaks with Christ.  Some ancient icons portray this. Through the centuries, however, the miracle of the burning bush became interpreted as prefiguring Christ’s incarnation in the Virgin Mary which is the more common way today for the miracle to be shown in icons. A comment in a recent Orthodox catechism says:

… the Fire of the bush was an immaterial fire. This fire must have looked somewhat different than an ordinary wood-burning fire because Moses was intrigued and found the sight of its strange even before he heard the voice. Actually, words cannot describe the power and the radical novelty of what Moses witnessed.

The Bible uses the word fire because it is the word which best describes the appearance of this manifestation. The word is also a symbol which indicates the presence of the Spirit. The burning bush is a reality perceived by Moses, but it is also a symbolic prophecy of other realities to come. The bush prefigures the Virgin Mother of God, Mary, who received the Fire of Divinity. At the moment when the angel Gabriel spoke to her. She was not consumed by this fire, but she conceived the child while remaining whole, just as the wood of the bush was not consumed. Mary is holy, just as the ground around the bush was holy. That is how the Virgin is hymned by the Church when it honors her on her feasts. (THE LIVING GOD, p 71)

As one Orthodox hymn has it:

The shadow of the Law passed when grace came. As the bush burned, yet was not consumed, so the Virgin gave birth, yet remained a virgin. The Sun of Righteousness has risen instead of a pillar of flame! Instead of Moses, Christ the salvation of our souls! (Tone 2 Dogmatic)

It is the Holy Spirit who makes us find joy in each flower, the exquisite scent, the delicate color, the beauty of the Most High in the tiniest of things.

Glory and honor to the Spirit, the Giver of Life, who robes the fields with their garment of flowers, crowns the harvest with gold,

and gives to us the joy of gazing at it with our eyes. O be joyful and sing to him: Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! 

How glorious you are in the springtime, when every creature awakens to new life and joyfully sings your praises with a thousand tongues!

You are the source of life, the destroyer of death. By the light of the moon, nightingales sing, and the valleys and hills lie like wedding-garments, white as snow. All the earth is your promised bride awaiting her spotless husband.

If the grass of the field is like this, how gloriously shall we be transfigured in the second coming, after the resurrection! How splendid our bodies, how spotless our souls! (Akathist: Glory to God for All Things)

Then one of the crowd answered and said, “Teacher, I brought You my son, who has a mute spirit. And wherever it seizes him, it throws him down; he foams at the mouth, gnashes his teeth, and becomes rigid. So I spoke to Your disciples, that they should cast it out, but they could not.” . . . if You can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.” Jesus said to him, “If you can believe, all things are possible to him who believes.” Immediately the father of the child cried out and said with tears, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:17-24)

The disciples are unable to expel the boy’s demon. Jesus’ reaction to His disciple’s failure is to chastise everyone. The disciples will later ask Jesus why they failed to cast the demon out and He tells them the issue is one of prayer. In the lesson itself, the father of the possessed child, expresses dismay and repentance over his own lack of faith. The disciples on the other hand never express any sorrow for their failure. However, their failure enables the man to come into Christ’s presence and to express his need to Christ. Conservative commentator Eric Metaxas writes about the purpose of prayer:

If the goal of prayer is really to ‘get the results we want,’ we have a strange candy-machine idea of God. It is as though we need only to put something in and we get something back. It’s a kind of trade. With this sort of ‘God,’ there is no doubt that if I do x, then he must do y. In a way, he has no choice in the matter. If that’s true, why would there be any gratitude on the part of the one getting what he wants?  . . .  Perhaps the thinking is that God is so rich it’s no big deal for him to give me what I want, so why should I be grateful? Perhaps I know I am only using God because I despise him and only want to do what I must do to get what I want. It puts me and what I want at the center of things and again creates a God who is no God.

This approach is what I’ve previously called ‘Dead Religion,’ which is contrasted with what I have called ‘True Faith,’ where the relationship with God is central, and the things we get from him are peripheral. We can think of it this way: If a child really loves her father and knows he really loves her, she trusts him. When he gives her what she wants, she is happy and grateful. But even when he doesn’t give her what she wants, she knows that he has a reason for not giving it to her, and not just any reason but a reason that has her ultimate welfare and concern at heart. So although it might take some effort, in the end she cannot help but be grateful. If we have that kind of a God in mind, then even when we don’t get what we want or ask for, we can trust there is wisdom and real love toward us in not giving it to us.

There are many people who may talk about God and prayer and who outwardly look very religious, but they’re really just performing rites and deeds and prayers so they can get what they want. If they felt that those rites or deeds or prayers wouldn’t get them what they wanted, they would stop doing those things. So they are not really worshipping the God they claim to be worshipping. They are selfishly worshipping getting what they desire. For them, God is only a means to that end. If he doesn’t give them what they want, they cut him off. Any parent understands that we don’t want our children to treat us that way. (MIRACLES, pp 62-63)

According to the Gospel, in their initial encounter neither the father nor the apostles get what they want. Perhaps because they fell short of faithfully loving God. Maybe the apostles wanted glory and to be held in honor and awe by the crowd because of their miraculous powers. Instead, they are humbled by their failure.

The father initially was only interested in getting what he wants, but then he realizes faith in God – a relationship with God – is more important than what he wants. Expressing his faith (‘I believe’) and confessing his failure (‘help my unbelief’) puts him back into a relationship with God. He is seeking God, not just what he wants, nor just what he can get from God. The Apostle’s failure gave him time to rethink what he was looking for and why.

As it is, I rejoice, not because you were grieved, but because you were grieved into repenting; for you felt a godly grief, so that you suffered no loss through us. For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation and brings no regret, but worldly grief produces death. (2 Corinthians 7:9-10) 

There is an old joke which asks, “How many Orthodox does it take to change a light bulb?” There are different versions of the answer, but all of them have a similar meaning: “Change? The Orthodox never change anything!” 

While that joke aims at Orthodox Tradition, there is a way in which it is wrong – for Orthodoxy from its beginning in the Gospels is a call to repent – to change our hearts and minds. Repentance isn’t simply enumerating one’s sins, but a change in outlook, a paradigm shift, seeing the world in a new way. Change is the path to the kingdom, and everyone is called to repent throughout their lives. Repentance isn’t just a onetime awakening, it is a way of life in which we are mindful of falling short of God’s commands and wishes for us, and so we constantly strive for a course correction to keep us on the straight and narrow path. Thus we pray that “we might spend the remaining time of our life in peace and repentance.” The spiritual life is dynamic, not static. “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” (Matthew 3:2)  Because the Kingdom is near, we are called to repentance (a change of heart and mind).  [This is unlike the Prodigal Son who had to go far away from his father’s house to come to repentance – to bring his father’s house back into focus. There are many paths to the Kingdom.]

 We need not be surprised that the word ‘change’ inspires a stampede of panic within, for change always means a confrontation for us with the unknown. To consider changing at all is itself a threatening confession of dissatisfaction with the present. Given the choice, we would much prefer denying anything is amiss, believing that we have already arrived at the point where no change is needed, that center of eternal stability. Our hearts, however, know only too well that it is not so. Like those pioneers who again and again had the courage to pick up their belongings and go after their dreams, this journey will require the rest of our lives. 

How could we be so mistaken about change? In reality, the summons to change is liberating, which is why a message so allied with change could be called ‘gospel,’ good news. True life never develops without change, and ongoing change is at the heart of all genuine spiritual traditions. None of us is exempt from this. (The Monks of New Skete, IN THE SPIRIT OF HAPPINESS, pp 64-65) 

And Jesus said to all, “If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. (Luke 9:23)

Do you believe that the words of your Lord: ‘Take up thy cross‘ refer also to you personally? If you believe this, then take it up. The Lord has laid it on your shoulders in the present grievous case. Do not say, it is too heavy; God knows better the measure of your strength. To some God sends trials and sorrows, brought about by circumstances and in no way dependent on people; these are more easily borne. To others He sends those caused by people, and they are harder, especially when we cannot take the grief caused to us as unintentional, and still harder when we have done some good to those people. The last case is the hardest to bear. If God sends you this, know that it is precisely what is most useful for you, and to this realization add the inspiring thought: God sees that you are strong enough to bear it and expects you actually to bear it with a good heart, without complaining. So do not disappoint God’s expectations. (Lorenzo Scopoli, UNSEEN WARFARE, p 132)

St Luke is very clear that as a disciple of Christ each one of us must bear his/her own cross:

Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me, cannot be my disciple. (Luke 14:27)

Bearing one’s cross might mean faithfully enduring whatever trails and tribulations comes our way in life which is the gist of the above quote and a monastic understanding of taking up one’s cross. However, it can also mean being patient with others and/or helping others with their difficulties as St Paul has it:

Bear one another’s burdens and so fulfil the law of Christ.(Galatians 6:2)

We who are strong ought to bear with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves; let each of us please his neighbor for his good, to edify him. (Romans 15:1-2)

Christ tells us that the burden He wants us to bear is not heavy:

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. (Matthew 11:28-30)

St Peter is adamant that Torah (the Law of the Old Covenant) is a burden which the Jews could not bear and thus should not be imposed on the Gentiles either:

Now therefore why do you make trial of God by putting a yoke upon the neck of the disciples which neither our fathers nor we have been able to bear? (Acts 15:10)

Of what else might the burden we are to bear consist, if it is in fact easy and light?  The New Testament is clear that Christ’s disciples are to bear witness to Him and also to bear spiritual fruits to the glory of God. Christ asks us to bear our crosses in imitation of Hin because He does not go unburdened Himself (John 19:17), for He came to serve us.  His bearing the cross is symbolic of what else He takes upon Himself:

This was to fulfil what was spoken by the prophet Isaiah, “He took our infirmities and bore our diseases.” (Matthew 8:17)

He Himself bore our sins in His body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By His wounds you have been healed. (1 Peter 2:24)

And the LORD sent Nathan to David. He came to him, and said to him, “There were two men in a certain city, the one rich and the other poor. The rich man had very many flocks and herds; but the poor man had nothing but one little ewe lamb, which he had bought. And he brought it up, and it grew up with him and with his children; it used to eat of his morsel, and drink from his cup, and lie in his bosom, and it was like a daughter to him. Now there came a traveler to the rich man, and he was unwilling to take one of his own flock or herd to prepare for the wayfarer who had come to him, but he took the poor man’s lamb, and prepared it for the man who had come to him.”

Then David’s anger was greatly kindled against the man; and he said to Nathan, “As the LORD lives, the man who has done this deserves to die; and he shall restore the lamb fourfold, because he did this thing, and because he had no pity.” Nathan said to David, “You are the man.  . . .  David said to Nathan, “I have sinned against the LORD.” And Nathan said to David, “The LORD also has put away your sin; you shall not die. Nevertheless, because by this deed you have utterly scorned the LORD, the child that is born to you shall die.” (2 Samuel 12:1-14)

 

Orthodox scholar John Barnett writes:

It is a commonplace of modern New Testament scholarship that parables engage hearers. Often cited is the example of the prophet Nathan confronting David with the sin of his adulterous affair with Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah the Hittite, by drawing him into a parable about a rich man who takes the only lamb, a ewe lamb from a poor man. (2 Samuel 12:1-4). First, ‘David’s anger was greatly kindled against the man‘ and then, when he realizes that he is the rich man, thus enacting the intention of the parable, David confesses that he has ‘sinned against the Lord‘ (2 Samuel 12:5, 13). Similarly, when Jesus tells the parable of the vineyard (Luke 20:9-16), we are told that the scribes and the chief priests ‘tried to lay hands on [Jesus] … for they perceived that he had told this parable against them‘ (Luke 20:19). Again, the intention of the parable is fulfilled.

And when Jesus tells the parable of the Good Samaritan in response to the lawyer’s question, ‘Who is my neighbor?’ (Luke 10:29), we are told … that the Jewish hearers of the parable were shocked that a Samaritan, their bitter enemy, rather than the establishment figures of priest and Levite, had fulfilled the commandment to love neighbor. Once again, the intention of the parable is fulfilled. (SEEKING CHRIST IN THE SCRIPTURES, Pages 207-208)

And they shall know that I am the LORD their God, who brought them forth out of the land of Egypt that I might dwell among them; I am the LORD their God. (Exodus 29:46)

In the above verse from Exodus, God says the very point of the Exodus was so that God could dwell/tabernacle with His people. Thus, this passage says the purpose of the Exodus was to prepare for the incarnation! It was not just to liberate Israel from slavery in Egypt that the Passover events happen. God was not just displaying His miraculous powers to awe people.  The goal always was to prepare the way so that God could dwell in His people.

The reality for us is this too is the point of Great Lent – of fasting, self-denial, and cross-bearing: we do it so that God can dwell in us (that is in the plural – not just in me but in the people of God, the Church). We should not lose sight of this fact that Lenten discipline is to prepare God’s people together for Christ dwelling in our midst – amongst the community. Too often we see it only as an individualistic enterprise, but it is how the Church prepares for Christ. It is how I participate in the people of God, thus experience salvation in community, in the Body of Christ.

The value of the Exodus is not its factual history, but it serves as a preparation and a prefiguring of salvation for the Church.  We miss the point if we focus on history or think the story is about the destruction of Egypt or Pharoah. The Exodus prefigures the salvation in Christ through His life, death and resurrection. God brings us out of our slavery (in Egypt or to our own sins) so that God can dwell with us. As we sing at Pascha:

This is the Day of Resurrection, let us be radiant, O people; Pascha, the Pascha of the Lord: for from death to life, and from earth to heaven, has Christ our God led us, as we sing the hymn of victory. (Paschal Canon – note the us and we, not I and me)

We see in this also how the early Christian teachers tended to interpret the stories of the Old Testament in a spiritual or symbolic way, as typology and prefiguring and allegory. We read these Old Testament stories to understand our current situation by seeing the old texts as spiritually describing our spiritual lives more than just giving us history.

“The Israelite wars found in the Old Testament are interpreted by means of re-reading the text in a new way: Israel now typifies the church, the war in Canaan signifies the Christian battle against vice.” (Bryan Stewart, THE OLD TESTAMENT AS AUTHORITATIVE SCRIPTURE IN THE EARLY CHURCHES OF THE EAST, p 29)

There are clues in the texts of the Jewish Scriptures which help us to look beyond reading them literally.  As in the Exodus 29 text above where God explains the purpose of the Exodus being so that He could dwell/tabernacle with us His people.  The texts are reminding us of what God intends for us, so that we can better prepare ourselves to receive Him into our lives.