Judica (Lent 5) – April 6, 2025Psalm 43; Genesis 22:1-19; Hebrews 9:11-15St. John 8:46-59
In the Name of the Father, and of the +
Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
The sacrifice of Isaac is a stumbling block for many. It is
used as ammunition for the enemies of Christ, and it is often a difficult
hurdle for those interested in Christianity. Questions abound, such as “How
could God tell Abraham to do this horrible thing?” and “Why would Abraham obey
such a command?” Thankfully, both of those questions are answered in the words
of Holy Scripture.
First, it is never wise to question God’s motives. His ways
are not our ways. But on occasion, He provides us with the reason He does
something we don’t initially understand. The sacrifice of Isaac was a test of
Abraham’s faith. The language of ‘test’ shouldn’t be understood the way we
think of a test in school. It was not a program by which God wanted to see how
much faith Abraham had gained since being called out of the land of his
fathers. When God tests someone, He is strengthening their faith.[1]
He is putting them through a trial so that when they come through the other
side, their faith is made stronger. When a bow is carved from wood, the bowyer
must repeatedly bend it, putting stress on the wood fibers, so that it will
finally achieve the correct shape and elasticity. When the testing is complete,
the bow is ready to be strung and fired. Without such testing, the bow would
snap under the pressure of the string alone.
Notice also that the test is appropriate to the one being
tested. God commanded Abraham to sacrifice his only son, an extreme test by any
measure. God did this because of the great faith He had already bestowed on
Abraham. The Lord did not command Sarah to sacrifice Isaac. He did not command
Moses to sacrifice Aaron. He didn’t even command David, a man after God’s own
heart, to sacrifice a child. They each received the tests of faith that were
appropriate to their own stations and God-given faith. This fact ought to be
comforting in that God provides the very faith by which Abraham will endure the
test. So too, He will only test you according to the faith you have been given.
In Abraham’s case, that faith led him to be certain that even if he sacrificed his son, his only son of the promise, God would raise Isaac from the dead. This is confirmed as true in the eleventh chapter of Hebrews, “By faith Abraham, when he was tested, offered up Isaac, and he who had received the promises offered up his only begotten son, of whom it was said, “In Isaac your seed shall be called,” concluding that God was able to raise him up, even from the dead.”[2]
There is also the allegorical reality, two of which can be
seen in this text. First, there is a father who goes to offer his only begotten
son to death on a solitary mountain. It doesn’t take much imagination to see
the crucifixion of Christ being portrayed in the sacrifice of Isaac. The only
Begotten Son of God the Father is offered as an all-atoning sacrifice on the
lonely hill of Calvary. His blood is the sacrifice offered to God to “cleanse
your conscience from dead works to serve the living God.”[3]
Perhaps the better allegory is that of the ram crowned with
thorns. Abraham is commanded to offer his son as a sacrifice to God. Death is
the wages of sin. The death of Isaac, the son of promise, would be just in the
eyes of the Lord because all man deserves death. Our mortality is the
consequence of our sin and therefore our death is justified in the court of
God’s Law, however that death might occur. Yet just before the death stroke,
the Angel of the Lord stays the executioner’s hand. The punishment of sin is
abated.
In place of this child, a ram is found, crowned with thorns.
The life of the ram will be sacrificed in substitution for the life of Isaac. An
adult, male sheep will now be offered to God to make atonement for the life of
Isaac. The boy is redeemed by the blood of the ram. Here we see Christ taking
our rightful place on the cross. He is crowned with thorns, just like the ram.
A ram is an adult sheep, who was born a lamb. Christ is the Lamb of God who
takes away the sins of the world. He acts as our substitute, taking the
punishment that we deserved, that we earned. By His death, we are redeemed,
bought back from the jaws of death. “Not with the blood of goats and
calves, but with His own blood He entered the Most Holy Place once
for all, having obtained eternal redemption.”[4]
Despite the clarity with which Scripture describes the
Sacrifice of Isaac as a testament to God’s faithful character, the faith given
to Abraham, and a foretaste of the substitutionary atonement of Christ, the
fallen mind of man scoffs at the account. Our Post-Enlightenment views of
equality and justice would condemn both God and Abraham for their actions. We
have built our own standards of “right and wrong,” “fair and unfair,” “good and
evil,” and expect God to act according to the sensibilities that we have
progressed into. Where once Christians did not count equality with God
something to be grasped, we now demand justice on our terms.
So too, with the Jews and chief priests of Christ’s day. They refused to hear the Word of God. They refused to see the works of Christ. And because they do not hear or see, it is clear they are not of God. They would set their own standards above God, effectively making themselves like God, the very first temptation of satan. That is why Christ tells them they are of their father, the devil. They are liars and murderers, just like their father. Christ threatens not only their wealth and status before men, but He dares to challenge their convictions about God. Their lack of faith in Him reveals their lack of faith in the Father. Their god is one of their own making, in which some are more equal than others.
Today is Judica, so called for the antiphon to the Introit.
Sadly, our translation of the Introit might make this difficult to understand.
It could be translated, “Judge me, O God, and plead my cause against an ungodly
nation: O deliver me from the deceitful and unjust man.”[5] It
is a bold plea to ask God to judge you. He sees all and knows all. He knows
that you are in fact unworthy of salvation. He knows your secret sins. Just one
sin is enough for your damnation, and He knows them all.
In a sense, crying out, “Judge me, O God,” is asking to be
tested as Abraham was tested. It is asking that God would review our sins and
purge them away. It is also a bold cry of faith. “Judge me God because Christ
has died for me. I do not deserve salvation. I do not deserve the death of Your
Only-Begotten Son. I do not deserve that my Lord should take frail flesh and
die.
“And yet by Your grace and mercy, You have poured out Your
wrath on Him and not on me. Jesus Christ is now my advocate, pleading on my
behalf. For His sake, Judge me as righteous O God, and do not be silent before
me. I have been reborn in the water of Holy Baptism, now finding my origin in
the flesh of Jesus and claiming the Name of God as the seal of my salvation.
“Speak your Word into my ears that I would repent of my sins
and receive forgiveness. Speak your Word into my ears that I would be cleansed
from my secret faults and receive the white robe of righteousness. Speak your
Word into my ears that I would hear the sweet song of the angels and the
glorious Name of God sung among Your people.”
The crosses are veiled to remind us that we are not worthy
of the death of Christ, let alone to gaze upon our salvation. Moses sinned
against a direct command of the Lord and was thus barred from entering the
Promised Land. So too, if we honestly examine our souls, we will find that
there is nothing within us that is worthy of salvation.
Moses, however, did get to peer into the Promised Land. He
was given a foretaste of the inheritance promised by God to His dear children.
So too, we can still see the shape of the cross. We can still see the shadow of
the figure nailed to this cross. The crosses are not removed but they are
veiled because despite our unworthiness; despite the veil of sin which clouds
our vision; Christ is still raised from the dead and will bring us to His side
in eternity.
As for the Gloria Patri, at the beginning of our
preparations, we silenced the Greater Gloria, the Gloria in Excelsis.
Now, we silence the Lesser Gloria. The song of the angels is silent and now our
proclamation of the full Name of God falls silent. This again reminds us that
we are not worthy to speak the Name of God, let alone call upon Him in every
time of need.
And yet we invoke the Name of the Father, and of the Son,
and of the Holy Spirit at the beginning of the service. We still cross
ourselves to remember our Baptism into that Name. We still have this Name of
God sealed upon our foreheads and our hearts, marking us as children of the
Heavenly Father, Temples of the Holy Spirit, and siblings of our Redeemer.
In + Jesus’
name. Amen.
