Thursday, July 3, 2014

The metaphor of Abraham and Isaac



(c) 2014 C. B. Park, all rights reserved

The story of Abraham’s near sacrifice of Isaac brings up raw emotion any time it is read and discussed. There are so many complications! The first is the utter conflict of this story with God’s promise to Abraham that he would be the father of nations.  The second is that God would actually ask Abraham to do something so heinous. The third, that Abraham would actually go about the doing of it without question.  Add into this the fact that this story is told to our Muslim friends, albeit with Ishmael facing the knife, means that all of the children of Abraham need to wrestle with the meaning of this tale of terror.

I would love simply to fall back on one rabbinic interpretation that this story is a story of Abraham’s failure.  The interpretation hinges on Abraham’s past experiences with God where he argues over Sodom’s destruction.  Why would Abraham argue with Yahweh over complete strangers and not argue over his progeny? To my chagrin, the Jewish Study Bible upends this interpretation.  There, the text notes point out that Abraham’s earlier arguments with God are based on forensics – what past actions God has done should figure into God’s decision over Sodom. 
The story about Isaac is about sacrifice…and only the most perfect, most unblemished, first-fruits of the earth or the womb are to be offered to God. And, good heavens, that makes this whole situation even worse.

This discovery left me looking for loopholes, in the truest W.C. Fields’ deathbed fashion, because I really don’t want to stay in this place.  “Well,” I said to myself, “if this story is in the Quran, maybe it’s more like the creation story – something that is built into every culture to prove a point.  I wonder where else this type of mythology could be found.”                   Hello Internet.

Lo, and behold, there is a Greek myth that is related to this near-sacrifice story.  It’s not the same, but there’s enough similarity to make you say “hmmmm.” Before Jason and the Argonauts was a lad named Phrixus.

King Athamas lived in Boeotia and his wife Queen Nephele. Athamas, who had grown tired of his bride decided to take for himself another. Though Nephele was still very much alive, the amorous king chose to wed Ino, a daughter of King Cadmus of Thebes. Ino at once came to live in the palace and in due time bore her husband two children. This posed a great problem for the king's new consort. Athamas already had two children by his first wife; a daughter named Helle and a son named Phrixus.
Phrixus was the eldest of the king's two boys and considered to be next in line to inherit the throne. Ino knew she needed to dispose of Phrixus to make way for her own son to become king of Boeotia.
Afraid to openly oppose the children of Nephele, Ino devised a plan that would guarantee the death of Phrixus without drawing any attention to herself. She secretly entered the granary and scorched all the seeds that had been set aside for the next sowing. This was to prevent the upcoming season's crops from sprouting and thereby threaten the city with starvation. Just as Ino hoped, Athamas dispatched a group of couriers to seek advice from the Delphic Oracle. While the messsengers were away, Ino hid herself among the dark corriders of the palace and awaited their return. She then bribed the men, asking them to deceive the king with a false story. Instead of the true words of the priestess they were instructed to recite a script which Ino had written herself. 

The messengers appeared before the desperate king and revealed their tale of deception. Athamas was told the corn would not grow again unless his son Phrixus was offered as a sacrifice.At first the sorrowful king resisted, but after much pressure from the townspeople, he decided he had no other choice but to obey the Oracle. Reluctantly, Athamas led Phrixus to the altar of Zeus and prepared him for the ritual. Just before the fatal moment a beautiful ram with fleece of gold appeared in the sky. Phrixus climbed upon his back and the glorious beast flew towards the northeast, never to be seen in Boeotia again. Phrixus made it safely to Aea, where he sacrificed the ram to Zeus in a grove sacred to the god Ares, and presented the fleece to King Aeetes as a gift. The king fastens the fleece to a tree for good luck.  (From http://www.medeaslair.net/phrixus.html)

There’s more, but I’m going to stop here. There are differences – the king argues, it’s the stepmother who is the mean one, not the mother.  But the similarities – deceipt, the ram, the tree, the escape leading to the building of kingdoms.  Not only does this little tale prefigure Abraham, Isaac, Ishmael, Sarah and Hagar, it continues with Rebecca and on and on and on.  

So, what do I believe about all of this?
Obviously, there’s nothing new under the sun.  People have been treating each other badly since the beginning of time.  Theologically, though, I think there is much to ponder.  I believe that the story of the near-sacrifice of Isaac tells us that God is God and we are not; that God’s justice and fairness are not ours to define.  And, folks, that’s just scary.  God expects us to offer our very best…something pure and unspotted…not something left over after we’re done with it. God also expects that this offering will most likely grieve us at some level. 

I believe that offerings may be sacrificial but that sacrifice is not synonymous with execution. We need to carefully discern whether or not the call to sacrifice is one of offering or one that requires someone to die – physically or metaphorically.  I think about how driven we all are in our lives.  That drive may be internal or external, but often we are driven to the point where our successes require the sacrifice of family or relationships. We need to discern whether or not this is divine or something masquerading as divine.   Remember the destruction of human lives at the hands of Jim Jones in Guyana or David Koresh in Waco, Texas, and realize the danger of believing someone who says they and only they have heard the word of God or that they or only they have all the answers.

I believe that God allows us to fail in order to teach us something.  We make light of those “gosh-darn learning experiences” – you know, the times when we find ourselves at the mercy of our own bad choices or the victim of someone else’s. However, if we’re honest with ourselves and give ourselves enough time to grieve, forgive, and look back, we’ll admit that it is in the most difficult times that give us wisdom and help us experience God’s presence.

Therefore, I think that what I need to do with this is to discern carefully what God is asking me to offer and remember that discernment requires community. I invite you to do the same.  I know that this may require some personal sacrifice, but I have no need to be afraid.  My office is full of sheep and other stuffed animals.

Agnus Day, on the other hand, should be very afraid …...             Amen.

(c) 2014 C. B. Park, all rights reserved

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