February 25, 2024 (Second Sunday in Lent)
/by Fr. Xavier Lavagetto, O.P.
[This is the text composed by the homilist prior to delivering the homily.]
“Take your son Isaac, your only one, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah. There you shall offer him up as a holocaust on a height that I will point out to you.” These are words of terror. What kind of God makes such a demand?... What kind of father does it?
Abraham, why didn’t you plead? “Take my life, not my son’s!” You confronted God and pleaded for the children of Sodom and Gomorrah when you challenged God, “Will you destroy the righteous with the wicked?” … Why don’t you plead for your own son?
Don’t forget that Genesis is not a mere account but a commentary on the human heart and a Jewish challenge to pagan thinking. Genesis is more sophisticated than most realize.
In those days, child sacrifice was the measure of devotion. It rested on the crazy idea that a father owned his children and their lives. Genesis rejects such deadly piety for all time for all Abraham’s descendants.
But there is more; hear it again, but with the missing words: Abraham took the wood for the burnt offering and laid it on Isaac his son. Then he took in his hand the fire and the knife, [Remember these next words!.] and they both went on together. Isaac spoke to Abraham his father: “My father?” He answered, “Here I am, my son.” He said, “I see the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?” Abraham replied, “God will provide for himself the lamb for a burnt offering, my son; and they both went on together.” …
Anytime scripture repeats a phrase, it is saying, “Explain this.” “They both went on together” describes walking together in trust, freely and knowingly. Isn’t that what we all want: someone to walk with us?
But more, Abraham’s Hebrew answer to Isaac is ambiguous, saying something more. “God himself will provide. The lamb for the burnt offering is my son. And they both went on together.” … Jewish tradition taught, and Jesus and Paul held that Isaac knowingly walked, freely carried the wood, and willingly was bound. This young man could easily overpower old Abraham. Isaac is not a passive victim, but an active participant for “they both went on together. What was God asking of them?
First, they had to face the contradiction of a God who promises a progeny through Isaac yet demands his death. … Imagine Abraham’s dread and Isaac’s courage. … Yet they choose to walk on together without being given a solution. Those last steps were tortuous, yet “they both went on together.” They walk together trusting.
I don’t like a God who tests the mettle of a man, but I am forced to admit that it was in the very testing that they were purified in the fire and made strong. … Do you look for the grace offered in your struggles?
Trust is only made real by the very act of trusting. Love is only as strong as our decision to trust.
God did stop Abraham; he was not seeking Isaac’s death. On that day, the idea that one could own another human being died, and child sacrifice ended. … God did not want Isaac’s death but Abraham’s trust.
In today’s Gospel, we are again on a mountain; a voice speaks again, “This is my beloved Son. Listen to him.” A journey begins again to Moriah, now renamed Jerusalem with its Golgotha. Once more, a son will freely walk, freely carry the wood, freely be bound, and, this time, freely die. God has the devotion of Abraham … for us! Jesus has the self-sacrificing generosity of Isaac … for us!
I understand Peter’s foolishness. “Rabbi, it is good that we are here! Let us make three tents.” … I, too, would keep Jesus safe in resplendent glory on the mountain, but that would leave the world unchanged. The Father and Jesus “both went on together;’ claiming a different glory, the glory of the cross.
The measure of divine love is God in Jesus’ freely giving himself into our hands! He didn’t have to die, but his love is that passionate. On the Mount of Transfiguration, we glimpse that love that pursues you and me is revealed as God himself. Our response is to listen. Will you listen and let him love you?
The ignominy of the cross continues in the hiddenness of Jesus in the Eucharist. God claims us, a motley group of sinners, as his glory. Jesus just doesn’t give his life for you; he pours himself into you. Take eat. Take drink.
I fear such loving lest God ask it from me! Wouldn’t you want to remain safe on the mountain like Peter? He wanted love without sacrifice and glory without giving, but Jesus refused to limit his love. He gives his all … for all … to all!
God in Jesus wants the glory of lovers, giving themselves away in love. It is not his pain and death that heals you; it is divine life, and love poured out and poured into you! Jesus’ sacrifice is not primarily about dying but about giving. It is all about our walking on together. Only the gift of love can end the child sacrifice, the violence, and the killing we still inflect. Will you walk on with God and each other?