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Pasadena Presbyterian Church Sermon Text
June 30, 2002

Preached by The Rev. Dr. Barbara Anderson

"Maybe We're Talking About a Different God"

Scripture: Genesis 22:1-14; Romans 6:12-23

These are two of the foundational scripture texts of the Christian faith. They are also two passages many of us try to avoid. Who among us wants to believe in a God that would command a father to sacrifice his son? And who among us would ever want to be a slave? But if we struggle with these passages, we find a thread that links them together, a thread that links us to the One from whom all blessings flow, the One who provides for all our needs, the One in whom we find our freedom and our life.

Some years ago, I encountered a quote from Martin Luther that became in my soul like a small pebble in my shoe. I didn't want to believe it was true. Like a pebble, I would work it out of the way for awhile. Then without warning, it would start to trouble and puzzle me once again, wanting to be recognized, claiming to be true. The quote was something to the effect that our God is that for which we would sacrifice our children. The quote probably comes from a sermon or commentary that Luther wrote on the Old Testament story we just read about Abraham nearly sacrificing Isaac.

For years, I didn't want to believe there was any circumstance under which I would sacrifice my children. I would lay my life down for them in an instant. But as the years have gone by, and that pebble keeps returning, I've realized Luther is right.

Although we don't tie our children to altars, we do sacrifice them every day to one god or another. This is not a sermon on interfaith dialogue. I'm talking about the gods that you and I as Christians are tempted to worship and follow in our life, with our time, our money, and our dreams, and to whom we sacrifice the children of this earth, whether ours by birth or not.

Lest you think I'm speaking of delusional parents who believe God is telling them to harm their children, let me give you some examples.

Enron, WorldCom, Tyco, Xerox - each day brings new revelations about more executives who followed the gods of greed and power, sacrificing their own children and those of their employees and communities on the altar of ego.

Or consider the recently appointed and replaced football coach at Notre Dame who lied about his qualifications, and the parents who forced a school board to accept their students' plagiarized essays even as teachers resigned in mass protest against the Board's acquiescence in dishonesty. Each week brings more stories of people who follow the gods of greed and power, giving up their critical roles as mentors and models for a good, civil, and respectful community. They sacrifice not only themselves, but their children and the children of the community to these gods of greed and power.

We too, are tempted to follow these same gods. And although our idols are not apt to be exposed on the front page of the newspaper, they do have destructive consequences that we hate to admit. So we long to hear again the witness of the faith that calls us back into the footsteps of those who have gone before. Stories of sacrifice for a different god that remind of us the path we too, can walk, the choices we too, can make.

As we remember this week the birthday of our country, let us remember its roots: that hundreds of years ago, faithful Christians left Europe to establish what they hoped would be a holy city, a new community rooted and grounded in Christian faith and values on the shores of what they called, the New World. That vision of a Christian community was so important to them, they risked their children's dying on ship or in the New World in order to make that vision a reality.

This is the country for which my father and many others have been willing to sacrifice themselves and, therefore, potentially sacrifice their children, because they believe this is God's vision of how we are to live. This is the vision to which God calls us this Fourth of July, a Fourth of July that seems so different from just one year ago. This is the vision for which we are to sacrifice ourselves and our loved ones, the vision of life to which God calls us and that sets us all free:

  • a vision of a country and a world where no child is hungry,
  • where no one lives in fear of bombs or beatings,
  • where justice is fair and equal,
  • where hard work is rewarded with a living wage and there is no such thing as the working poor;
  • a country where each person honors the earth from which we receive our food and water, the air we breathe and the oceans that sustain our life;
  • a country where each member uses their gifts for the common good, not merely to line their own pockets and build their own bank accounts;
  • a country where we give freely in ordinary times and times of crisis and the best of ourselves is seen often and fully.

This is the vision of God's world for which Martin Luther King, Jr. was willing to sacrifice his family during the Civil Rights Movement, as he received death threats against his wife and children and had to decide whether to risk their lives by continuing in what he believed to be God's call for him, or to seal his mouth and disappear into the night.

Our choices are not usually as clear as my father's or Martin Luther King's, or the Pilgrims', or even Martin Luther's in the 16th century. But we do choose each day, whom we will serve, and if we want to put it most baldly, like a pebble in the soul or a plumb line against which to measure our life, we choose each day to whom we will sacrifice the children of this world, both those that are ours by birth and those that are not.

The Apostle Paul puts these choices in terms of making ourselves slaves to the world or slaves to God. It is hard to imagine a less inviting image for the Christian life than that of slavery. No one ever wants to be a slave . . . you don't, I don't, no one does in our time or in Paul's. No one wants to give up their freedom and be subject to the will of someone else. As hard as it is for modern Americans to imagine ourselves as sheep with Jesus as our shepherd, it is even more difficult to convince us that we want to be slaves.

Paul lived in a part of the world, and in a time when slavery was common. People knew what it meant to be a slave - your deeds, your energy, your time were not your own, they were for the benefit of someone else. No one wanted to be a slave, but everyone knew what it meant.

When Paul says that we are either slaves to the world or slave to God, he means that none of us is free in the way we think we are. We are either obedient to God or we are, consciously or unconsciously, obedient to and driven by the compulsions and impulses that so easily destroy us and our communities. The Christian life calls us to a conscious way of living that promotes community and openness, sharing of our lives and resources and selves with others, humility in the face of those with whom we disagree, and courage in the face of evil. The Christian life is not a set of rules that enslaves us, but a way of being and a focus on God who really, truly, does set us free.

As much as I struggle with a story of sacrifice, as much as I rebel against the language of slavery and obedience, I see that the truth of the story is evident in my life, and it can be in yours as well. When I dare to trust God, when I dare to place that which is most important to me in God's hands, when I dare to put my future with God, not knowing where it will take me nor what the price will be, I discover blessings beyond my greatest imagining, I discover vistas I never thought I would see, I discover relationships I never dreamed would grace my life. Much as God provided the ram for Abraham and Isaac to sacrifice, I discover all I have needed, God's hand has provided.

We make choices each day of our life, and when our choices are faithful to God's purposes, they lead to health and goodness, to wholeness and peace. Not the clutter on the surface, but rather, all our true needs are provided.

It's as if there are two ways of living in the world, but it takes the eyes of faith to see their reality, and to recognize that they are the consequences of the choices we make and the god we choose to follow. Paul's words are convoluted, the Genesis story, bizarre. Let me therefore put before us two pictures of where I believe our choices lead us.

If I take the first path, if I follow the tempting gods too numerous to name today, I stand freely and boldly, confidently and triumphantly on a hill, unafraid of anyone who would draw close, for I am strong, invincible and mighty.

But the landscape around me is burned out and barren, there are no people in sight, no hint of warmth or comfort, no water or shade. My bravado covers a fear of being vulnerable, a fear of trusting anyone, and a deep longing that I cannot even name.

I find myself filled with envy and anxiety, fear and anger, seeking my own good at all cost, protecting myself from others that could hurt me, ignoring the needs of all whom I don't want to acknowledge even exist. I have worked hard and climbed to the top of the highest hill. I am in charge of my life. It is a harsh and desolate territory I have conquered and of which I am now the ruler. The Apostle Paul would say my victory is actually death.

There is another possibility, another God whom I can follow other than the lesser gods the world puts before me.

When I follow that God, I live and love in a way that is whole and genuine, in a way that stands up for myself and honors who I am. It is that which gives me life, and does the same for others.

I live and love in a way that doesn't need to hide, feels joy and sorrow, both gives and receives. I can give away freely what I have, for I know my true needs are not material goods. I am nurtured by friendships where I am vulnerable, honest, and secure in myself. Once again, I find myself on a hill, but this time, I love in a way that invites my dear ones to be with me on that hill, where the dry ground has become lush and green, the breeze blows gently, the shade tree is nearby, the picnic basket always full, our hearts strong and brave and unafraid, but soft towards one another, and the blanket large enough to welcome others who come up the hill to join us.

This is the freedom to which we are called, the eternal life we are offered. "Choose this day whom you will serve," says Joshua. "Put away the other gods that you have followed and incline your hearts to the Lord. For I set before you this day, life and death, blessing and curse. Therefore, choose life, that you and your descendants may live."

(c) Copyright 2002 by Barbara A. Anderson. All rights reserved. Permission granted for non-profit use with attribution.