5th Sunday after Pentecost – Lectionary 13A
July 2, 2023
Good Shepherd Lutheran Church, Rutland, VT

¹God tested Abraham. He said to him, “Abraham!” And he said, “Here I am.” ²He 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.” ³So Abraham rose early in the morning, saddled his donkey, and took two of his young men with him, and his son Isaac; he cut the wood for the burnt offering, and set out and went to the place in the distance that God had shown him. ⁴On the third day Abraham looked up and saw the place far away. ⁵Then Abraham said to his young men, “Stay here with the donkey; the boy and I will go over there; we will worship, and then we will come back to you.” ⁶Abraham took the wood of the burnt offering and laid it on his son Isaac, and he himself carried the fire and the knife. So the two of them walked on together. ⁷Isaac said to his father Abraham, “Father!” And he said, “Here I am, my son.” He said, “The fire and the wood are here, but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?” ⁸Abraham said, “God himself will provide the lamb for a burnt offering, my son.” So the two of them walked on together.
 ⁹When they came to the place that God had shown him, Abraham built an altar there and laid the wood in order. He bound his son Isaac, and laid him on the altar, on top of the wood. ¹⁰Then Abraham reached out his hand and took the knife to kill his son. ¹¹But the angel of the Lord called to him from heaven, and said, “Abraham, Abraham!” And he said, “Here I am.”¹²[The angel] said, “Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him; for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from me.”¹³And Abraham looked up and saw a ram, caught in a thicket by its horns. Abraham went and took the ram and offered it up as a burnt offering instead of his son. ¹⁴So Abraham called that place “The Lord will provide”; as it is said to this day, “On the mount of the Lord it shall be provided.” – Genesis 22:1-14

[Jesus said to the twelve:] ⁴⁰“Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. ⁴¹Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward; and whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the righteous; ⁴²and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple—truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.” – Matthew 10:40-42

           A fundamental question of faith, for me at least, if not for most or maybe all people is about self-worth. Do I matter? Do I have value? Am I enough? Most of us ask some version of that question in general and perhaps particularly of God. 

            I suspect if I asked each of you, you would tell me that God is love, God loves everybody. Of course. End of story. But I suspect that while each of us knows that to be true we also sometimes doubt it in our hearts or at least act in ways that don’t live up to that. We make choices – we choose one over another, we support the existence of in-groups that leave others out, we forget for ourselves and others that fundamental truth. We exist in a world that in all sorts of subtle and overt ways tries to counter that fundamental truth, calling into question for us our sense of worth. 

            Today I want to turn to what seems at first an unlikely place to reassure us of that fundamental truth – the story of Abraham and the almost-sacrifice of his son Isaac according to God’s instructions. 

            First…some context: Abraham and Sarah, the parents formerly known as Abram and Sarai, were old – like really old – and barren – no biological children to speak of. Until God called them up out of the land of Ur, promised them descendants as numerous as the stars, a land of plenty, and blessing enough to spill out to the whole world. God said “I love you! You matter!” They said “yes” to God’s call, with a good bit of mistrust, laughter at God, and disbelief along the way. Waiting for the son God had promised through Sarah, Abraham got impatient – perhaps too many things calling the promise into question for him – and he took matters into his own hands fathering a child by his servant Hagar. God, ever patient, reminded him the promise was for Sarah as well and in time she bore Abraham a son. 

            But this is where trouble begins (again), for now there are two sons of Abraham – a firstborn who ought to have the rights as such and a second born that is the one everyone is focused on. There is jealously, and the problem at least for Sarah is solved when Abraham gets fed up and sends Hagar and their son Ishmael out into the desert to die. God, of course, takes care of them in the wilderness and tradition has it that our Muslim siblings are descendants of Abraham through Ishmael. God forgets no one, leaves no one behind.

            We, though, are left with Abraham, Sarah, and their son Isaac, and our story for today comes along right after this whole incident. God summons Abraham to a test of faith. Sacrifice your son, your only son, the passage says. We might read, the only one you have left. Abraham begrudgingly trudges up the mountain with Isaac, binds him for a sacrifice, only to be interrupted at the last moment by a heavenly messenger. Jews and Christians have puzzled over this for centuries since. What kind of cruel God initiates such a grotesque test of faith? Is it a commentary against child sacrifice? Certainly, yes, though God forbids plenty of other things without dramatic object lessons. Is it a test of faith? Sure, but why at this moment after so many admittedly imperfect but passed tests of faith already? And to use a well-worn saying, God doesn’t call the equipped, God equips the called. 

            But let’s remember that in the immediately preceding chapter we are for some reason less troubled that Abraham dismisses his first born son and his son’s mother to die in the desert. Could this be the only way God could get through to Abraham that no child – indeed no person – is disposable? This is God making clear to Abraham the depth of his disregard for the human lives under his power and influence when he dismissed Hagar and Ishmael. 

            And before we too quickly dismiss Abraham, let’s remember that our world has long chosen who gets privilege and who doesn’t, who is considered disposable and who isn’t. We have often treated those experiencing poverty as objects of charity rather than human siblings and those with wealth as more important. Our world has again and again for centuries privileged lighter skin tones over darker ones. Our country continues to relegate indigenous people to the margins and favors native-born people and native-English speakers over immigrants and non-native speakers. We favor our in-group over strangers. We sacrifice people all the time for the sake of one thing or another. And all of us are hurt by the inequities and divisions that permeate our lives. 

            We rightly rage against God’s invitation to sacrifice of Isaac and Abraham’s willingness to carry it forward, but the lesson for Abraham is the same for us – to look more deeply at ourselves and our community and perhaps to see some of the ways we are complicit in sacrificing one person or group of people for our own advantage. God’s message is that absolutely no one is disposable. End of story. 

            This is what Jesus echoes in today’s gospel reading. Christ himself is present in the stranger – whoever welcomes you, welcomes me. Whoever gives even a cup of cold water to the little ones will not lose their reward. These are calls to honor the presence of God in one another, not just by being nice, but being deeply kind and compassionate, radically welcoming, and standing against all the forces that work toward oppression, prejudice, division, and death in our world. 

            It’s a high calling. And it is not easy. You know that it’s not easy to live in community together. Living in community requires healthy boundaries and sometimes saying farewell to people who have been a part of the journey. That is rarely easy. But how can we set those boundaries and make those separations in ways that honor Christ present in one another? 

            And as you look to what is next for this congregation, as you consider what mission and ministry will be on the horizon as you continue forward as a congregation, it will be important to ask the question – how do we honor God’s presence in every human life around us?

You do that in relationship with people at Companions in Wholeness. I have long admired that program because it sees people experiencing poverty and other challenges not as objects of charity but as fellow community members we get to accompany for a moment, offering the cup of cold water Jesus speaks of while gaining the joy of new companions on the way. 

We honor God’s presence in the other when we provide quality child-care and preschool for families as their children are young, doing it because it provides a needed service to families and not just because maybe it will boost our own church’s Sunday school. I know that last bit is hard, and you absolutely should reach out, invite, discover relationship, but I encourage you to do it in ways that honor where they are and not where you wish they could be. 

Every one of us has the opportunity to go out from here this day and honor the presence of God in every human life – the clerk at the store, the fellow families at the park, the particular people in your household. And people in general in our communities, our state, our country and world. 

Here’s the thing, this isn’t just some good deed we go out and do because we’re told to. We don’t honor every life because it’s some arbitrary rule or test of our faithfulness to God. We do it because that is perhaps the best way to discover our own worth in God’s eyes. Entering into genuine relationship with others is a primary way we get reminded that we are God’s beloved, too, that we are the recipients of welcome, of grace, of a cup of cold water on a hot day. This is how we discover again not just in our heads but deep in our hearts, too, that we are indeed worthy. God will not let a single one be abandoned or sacrificed for another. 

As we journey, we will forget. We will forget and allow people to be harmed in the process. Prejudice, oppression, and division will not die easily. But Christ is there with us inviting us in again and again, refreshing us with the cool waters of grace that wash over us in baptism, proclaiming us always and forever beloved of God.

-Pastor Steven Wilco