You Will Be Called a Peacemaker

 Saturday morning, I was up around 5 am and I happened to be looking out the front window when I noticed that the moon was particularly large and bright in the western sky.  And right underneath the moon was this other light, this bright pinprick of light. 

It wasn’t twinkling, so it wasn’t a star. 

It wasn’t moving, so it wasn’t a plane. 

And I remembered that I had read recently that Jupiter was supposed be prominent that night. 

When I was in Florida, I tried to use my superzoom camera to get pictures of Saturn and Jupiter.  I had a tripod but even with a tripod I only managed to get a picture of Jupiter and its moons, once, with Jupiter as a larger light and its moons slightly smaller lights, cast out like a light beam from their mother planet. 

Once, for a second, I saw Saturn’s rings, but I didn’t get a picture worth sharing.  Real astrophotographers have methods that include stacking of picture frames to get clear shots.  I don’t know the first thing about how to do that, but for a moment, for a second, for a blink of the eye, I saw Saturn’s rings. 

But this past Saturday, after I verified online that the light in the sky under the moon was, in fact, Jupiter, I sat in my recliner wondering if I should try and get a picture.  I had two problems, though.  I no longer had a tripod and it was 1 degree outside.  There was no way I was risking frostbite for Jupiter, but I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity. 

So, I thought to myself, I wonder if I can get a clear view through the window. 

I grabbed my camera, turned off the lights in the house and pulled back the curtains.  I rested the lens on the window frame and I began to zoom in.

I couldn’t quite get a good angle.  There were tree branches in the way, but I zoomed in farther and farther, holding my breath, trying not flinch. 

Like with Saturn, years ago, there was a moment, half a second, when the bright blurry light of Jupiter, coalesced into something instantly recognizable as Jupiter, a yellow-brownish color with deep brown belts, bands that girdled the top and the bottom of the planet.  

For that briefest of seconds, it was like seeing the face of God, in that it is something we are all told exists, but rarely have a moment to see and experience for ourselves. 

For a second, seeing Jupiter from my kitchen window, was perfect … realized … faith. 

Today’s reading is part four in our series of “Horrible Stories from Genesis.”  And once again we are treated to a story about how woefully imperfect our heroes in Genesis are. 

The story of Abraham and his almost sacrifice of his son, Isaac, is objectively a horrible story.  To recap.  God decides to test Abraham, his loyalty, his obedience and tells Abraham to sacrifice his only son, Isaac, (not his only son, hello Ishmael) as a burnt offering.  God doesn’t explain why and Abraham doesn’t ask any clarifying questions like the most obvious which is … “You God, gave me Isaac.  He is a miracle.  From him, whole nations will rise.  Did I hear you wrong when you made that promise?” 

Perhaps you are thinking that God’s will should not be questioned, that we should blindly follow what we are told to do. 

But I would then remind you that even Mary, in the gospels, asks a clarifying question when she is told she is to become pregnant.  Remember?  She asks how that is possible given that she is a virgin. 

Abraham, though, asks no questions.  He takes Isaac off into the middle of nowhere, far away from anyone who might witness what he’s about to do.  He builds an altar.  He sets the wood beneath the altar.  He is ready to make his sacrifice.  

At this point, you get the sense that even Isaac is starting to notice that something is off.  And he asks Abraham what they will be sacrificing.  Abraham answers only that God will provide.

Abraham is going to kill Isaac.  I always read this passage as Abraham holding the knife high, maybe in the very act of swinging down on his son when God intervenes and commands Abraham to stop. 

Abraham passed the test.  He was willing to sacrifice his son, his precious son in obedience to God. 

Again, this is such an awful story—that God would ask Abraham to kill Isaac, that Abraham would be willing to do it, without question.  I’m trying to imagine what the walk home was like for Isaac and Abraham.  Did Abraham warn Isaac not to say anything to Sarah?  Did Isaac spend the rest of his life wondering if his dad was going to murder him? 

A couple of months ago, I read a book which I highly recommend called Canticle.  It is a fictionalized telling of the religious orders of women that popped up during the Middle Ages.  The main character, a woman, is a mystic and in one scene, she is teaching another woman this story of Abraham and Isaac.  

She tells the woman that Abraham passed the test.  He proved his loyalty to God.  He showed he cared more for God than his son. 

But the woman disagrees.  She says that Abraham failed the test.  He failed the test because God would never ask a parent to kill their child.  The test was not one of obedience but one of discernment. 

And I can tell you that if the story of Abraham and Isaac is a test of discernment rather than blind obedience to God, it is a test the human race has been failing since the dawn of time. 

How many awful horrible things have human beings committed in the name of God from the Crusades to the Inquisition?  

Even today, there is such a divide among Christians in this country that no matter what side you are on, you may wonder if you are all worshipping the same God. 

How do we discern what God is telling us in our own lives? 

One of the interesting things about these readings from Genesis that we have looked at over the last month is that even though these are post Eden stories, God still plays a very important and active role in the lives of His human creation.  He may not walk with Noah or Hagar the same way He walked with Adam and Eve in the Garden, but He does speak to people.  He speaks to Cain, “Where is your brother?”  He speaks to Hagar, “Turn around and go back.”  He speaks to Abraham.  And still the human race at the time struggles to understand God, even when He is talking to them directly.  

What hope do we have in this day and age, when God can sometimes feel very distant? 

What hope do we have to do the right thing, the Godly thing? 

Where do we even begin? 

We must look for God everywhere, not just in the planets in the night sky, but in each other. We must see that compassion and empathy, that justice, mercy and humility are not weaknesses but signs of strength, the strength given to each of us through the Holy Spirit. 

When we see the face of God in each other, then we can fully live out the blessings in Jesus’s Sermon on the Mount. 

When we see the face of God in each other, we dare not turn away from the poor, from the grieving, from the meek. 

Instead we will be filled by a hunger for righteousness that can only be sated by the bread of live. 

We will thirst for a righteousness that can only be quenched by the living water of Jesus Christ. 

We will be called peacemakers for we are all children of God. 

We will love our neighbor, unconditionally, without exception. 

Amen.