Abraham and Isaac -- and Me
Jan. 21st, 2006 09:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
qosOne of my friends recently posted an excerpt from Anne Lamott, in which Lamott tells the story of being powerfully touched and transformed by the story of Abraham and Isaac. In that story of Abraham's blind faith in and obediance to God, his willingness to kill his only son if that's what God wanted, and God's proving himself trustworthy by providing a lamb at the last minute, she experienced grace, and a conviction that God was real and could be trusted.
In composing my response to that post, I found myself writing with unexpected conviction and intensity, and wanted to share it here:
I have heard and read this story all my life, and my own spiritual director has a powerful connection to it, not quite the same as Lamott, but one which inspires and gives him hope.
When I was little, I accepted it the way I accepted all Bible stories: that it was about a good and loving God who sometimes had mysterious purposes. I no longer buy that. I don't like stories of a God who "tests faith" in this way. Abraham had already done so much to demonstrate his faith. Why could this possibly have been necessary?
If 'God' spoke to me one day and said that he wanted me to kill my daughter, I would stake my soul and my eternal future on my NO.
I contrast this story with my own experience of hearing the voice of God in an orphanage in Tijuana, where I had found myself in unlikely service, after accepting and following a compulsion I did not understand. The Voice told me that I was there because God had seen the need of these children for love, and brought me there to meet that need, and then given me the physical resources to go far beyond what I thought myself capable. In the years after my existential crisis, it was the memory of that Voice, and that attention to and care for "the least of these" that convinced me there was a God and that God was worthy of worship.
Please understand that I in no way criticize anyone who finds grace in this difficult story of Abraham. God speaks to all of us in different ways.
But for me, this story now speaks of how far I have come from my childhood faith, both in my understanding of God, and in my growth as a Mother, a role I struggled against for a very long time.
In composing my response to that post, I found myself writing with unexpected conviction and intensity, and wanted to share it here:
I have heard and read this story all my life, and my own spiritual director has a powerful connection to it, not quite the same as Lamott, but one which inspires and gives him hope.
When I was little, I accepted it the way I accepted all Bible stories: that it was about a good and loving God who sometimes had mysterious purposes. I no longer buy that. I don't like stories of a God who "tests faith" in this way. Abraham had already done so much to demonstrate his faith. Why could this possibly have been necessary?
If 'God' spoke to me one day and said that he wanted me to kill my daughter, I would stake my soul and my eternal future on my NO.
I contrast this story with my own experience of hearing the voice of God in an orphanage in Tijuana, where I had found myself in unlikely service, after accepting and following a compulsion I did not understand. The Voice told me that I was there because God had seen the need of these children for love, and brought me there to meet that need, and then given me the physical resources to go far beyond what I thought myself capable. In the years after my existential crisis, it was the memory of that Voice, and that attention to and care for "the least of these" that convinced me there was a God and that God was worthy of worship.
Please understand that I in no way criticize anyone who finds grace in this difficult story of Abraham. God speaks to all of us in different ways.
But for me, this story now speaks of how far I have come from my childhood faith, both in my understanding of God, and in my growth as a Mother, a role I struggled against for a very long time.
