IF GOD IS YOUR CO-PILOT, CHANGE SEATS!

Sermon, February 7, 1999

Text: Hebrews 11:11-12, 17-40; Genesis 22

Many of you may be familiar with the motto, "God is My Co-Pilot." I'm not sure of the origin of that motto; I think it came out of the air battles of World War II. On one hand, the motto does reflect sound theology ... if there is one thing about which the Bible is clear, it is that we are not alone in this world. God Himself is with us, before us, beside us, below, above and behind us wherever we may be, be it in the cockpit of a plane or wherever. On the other hand, however, I have never been fully comfortable with that motto. Having God as "co-pilot" infers that God is there "just in case," that we can handle everything ourselves; if we can't, then we will call on the Co-pilot. He's there "if I might just happen to need Him," or, He's there "in case I can't quite navigate this alone" or "in case I need assistance in an emergency." Meanwhile, we remain the real "pilots" of our lives, we are the ones who are in charge of the "flight plan." Well, as posted on the marquee of a Baptist church in Manassas, VA: "If God Is Your Co-pilot, Change Seats!" All the Biblical language about God infers that He is to be our pilot, our Navigator, our Lord, our Master. He is the one who is to be in control, not one Who is there "just in case." He is the pilot who gives us directions; He is not the co-pilot who receives our directions and who, more often than not, is just along for the "ride." We are to follow His flight plan, not fly our own merry way and calling on him only when we get in trouble or tired or desperate. We are to let God be the Pilot; we are to let God be God.

There's a short devotional story in a book entitled Under His Wing by Bernard May, a former missionary pilot of Wycliffe Bible Translators: "The wheels of the heavily loaded Cessna 206 had barely left the wet jungle airstrip. The pilot had the throttle pushed all the way to the firewall. He had done this many times before and was confident they would clear the huge trees. Then the passenger sitting next to him had a surge of panic. Glancing up, he saw the onrushing trees filling the windshield; it looked as if they were heading right into them. Fearful they were going to crash, he tried to help. He took hold of the flight controls (there were dual controls on this Cessna, making the passenger a potential co-pilot) and pulled back. His assistance proved to be disastrous and almost fatal. His intentions were only the best; he only meant to help. From his perspective, they were rushing headlong into danger and apparent death, and the pilot didn't seem to be aware of it. Doesn't the pilot realize how fully loaded they were, and doesn't he realize how difficult it is for a fully loaded plane to climb in hot, humid jungle air? From this passenger's perspective, the fully loaded Cessna wasn't climbing rapidly enough; huge trees at the end of the runway were looming large. Running through this passenger's mind: 'What's wrong with the pilot? Is he asleep? Doesn't he see the trees? Why doesn't he pull back on the controls?' However, it doesn't work that way. What the inexperienced passenger/co-pilot did not realize is that you have to build up airspeed before you point the nose skyward. Otherwise, the plane will stall. The pilot knew that. Well, as the passenger pulled back on the controls, the airplane pitched up, lost critical airspeed, and began to settle toward the jungle below. The pilot wrenched the controls back and tried desperately to get the nose down. But it was too late. The airplane stalled, the heavy engine pulled the nose over sharply, and the craft spun to earth. By God's grace, no one was killed, but all were injured, the pilot most seriously. The author went on to write, "I sympathize with the frightened passenger, for I have a way of doing exactly the same thing in my spiritual journey. Thinking God has lost control or has ceased to care, I panic and try to take over and run things my way. It never works. Even the Lord Jesus had to submit to His Father's flight plan. 'Not my will, but Yours be done.' Things may seem mighty awkward -- or even dangerous - but we have to be willing to leave the controls in the hands of the Pilot. It's the only way to fly."

In our Scripture reading from Hebrews 11, we are reminded how the Head Pilot once put a tremendously harrowing and difficult flight plan into the hands of one of His faithful "co-pilots." Hebrews 11:17 -- "By faith Abraham, when God tested him, offered Isaac as a sacrifice. He who had received the promises was about to sacrifice his one and only son, even though God had said to him, 'It is through Isaac that your offspring will be reckoned.'" We find the original account of this reference in Genesis 22. The chapter begins with God speaking to Abraham, saying in verse 2: "Take your son, your only son, Isaac, whom you love, and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains I will tell you about." Now, this "flight plan" didn't seem to make sense! It was difficult, it seemed unduly harsh, it flew in the face of logic. Abraham knew that the pagan Canaanites may sacrifice their first-born children to their gods, but his God did not make such demands ... or did He? There was no mistaking God's voice; Abraham knew that. What was he to think? What was he to do? You know, sometimes we can forget that these people in the Scriptures are real flesh and blood; people who are husbands, wives, fathers, mothers; people scratching out a living; people struggling to be faithful to God in the midst of a pagan culture…in a word, people like you and me. It is not always easy for any of God's people to understand and obey the commands of God; Abraham is no exception.

To give a quick background: In Genesis 18, approximately 24 years or so after God had originally promised to Abraham that he would be the father of a great nation, Abraham and Sarah still remain childless. Abraham and his wife are then visited by three strangers; it turns out two were angels and one was God Himself, all in human form. They tell Abraham that his aged wife (who had been childless all her life) will soon conceive and have a son, even though she is well past child-bearing years (v. 11 puts it somewhat euphemistically "Now Abraham and Sarah were old, advanced in age; it had ceased to be with Sarah after the manner of women.") Sarah's understandable reaction was to laugh! In so many words, God said to Abraham, "Why did Sarah laugh? Is anything too hard for me?" He then directed that the son's name was to be Isaac; which, in the Hebrew language, means "laughter." As it turned out, Isaac was conceived; at his birth, it was God who indeed had the last laugh. With the birth of his son, Abraham saw the tangible evidence of God's faithfulness to His promises. Although it was almost a quarter century after he heard the original promise from God, Abraham was now a father; Isaac would go on to become his heir. Now, God calls Abraham to sacrifice this son! In addition to the other difficulties mentioned, how is God going to fulfill his promise to make Abraham a great nation if the only biological heir is killed?

We see in the narrative that Abraham resolves to obey the "flight plan," come what may. In verse 3, he gets up early (probably, in part, to avoid having to tell his wife Sarah what he is about to do) to begin the journey. Three long days he traveled with his boy. Three long days he is walking with his dearly loved son, all the while believing he is taking the boy to his death. When they get to the site, Abraham even loads the wood for the fire on his son; his son is compelled to carry the instrument and means by which he will be sacrificed. The stark simplicity of the text can cause us to miss the deep pathos of this very moving trial of faith. In verse 6, Isaac asks, "My father! Where's the lamb?" Abraham answers, "God will provide himself the lamb for a burnt offering, my son." Abraham might really be saying, "God will provide...I hope!" Abraham does not know what God is going to do. Maybe God will provide a substitute, or maybe God's sacrificial "lamb" will indeed be this only legitimate son of Abraham; after all, the conception and birth of Isaac was indeed miraculous. God did provide this "lamb," conceived in Sarah's old age; indeed, Abraham knew that "…the Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away." Abraham goes ahead, not knowing for certain how, or even if, God will provide! Abraham trusts, yes; he believes, yes; he has faith, yes; but don't "superficialize" that faith. Sometimes the faith by which a Christian stands is the faith which comes with clenched teeth, where we are hanging on by our fingernails, where we are seeking to be obedient even when we don't understand, even when it looks as if we'll lose something…or someone…we hold very dear.

As we read in verses 9 and 10, Abraham goes to the very line of obedience. His faith was not an easy faith, but it was a trusting faith; he did it. He obeyed. Even though it looked for certain that the "plane" was headed for death and destruction in the "jungle trees," Abraham didn't grab the "flight controls" to head in another direction ... he followed the flight plan of the Head Pilot to the bitter end. He did what God required him to do: As you can read in the text, he ties up his son, takes that knife, raises the knife and is just about to plunge it into his own son, and at the last possible second ... a voice from heaven calls out "Abraham, Abraham! Do not lay a hand on the boy. Do not do anything to him. Now I know that you fear God, because you have not withheld from me your son, your only son." Abraham then sees that a substitute had been provided by God. Abraham saw that ram caught in the thicket, and I'm sure he untied his son as fast as he could and hugged him to his chest and prayed, "Thank you God, for that substitute." He went over and took the ram and sacrificed it as a burnt offering instead of his son.

Why would God put his faithful "copilot" through such a harrowing ordeal? From our historical vantage point we can hazard an educated guess. We see in this historic episode of this emotionally wrenching test of faith a clear foreshadowing of the ultimate act of redemption. This tremendous story of faith and redemption was passed from generation to generation; many, many recounted this story again and again throughout the years. This account most likely earned Abraham the nickname, "Father of the Faithful." As this story was passed on, each hearer would receive a clear hint, a paradigm, of God's ultimate plan of salvation. For what does the New Testament proclaim? For God so loved the world that He gave His only son, the son whom He loved, Jesus. Tradition has it that the very mountain where the cross stood was the site of this Old Testament place called Moriah. (Genesis 22:14 takes on even more significance if this tradition is correct: "So Abraham called that place 'The LORD Will Provide.' And to this day it is said, 'On the mountain of the LORD it will be provided.'") There are many parallels, one after the other; I only have time to point out a few: God takes His own son, His only son, the son whom He loves, to a mountain to slay him. Isaac carries the wood for his own sacrificial fire; Jesus carries the wood of His sacrificial cross. The same story is rehearsed, only with one distinct difference. When the Son of God was being sacrificed on the cross, nobody yelled stop. No angels stepped in. Nobody stopped this sacrifice. Instead of a knife, nails were driven into the beloved Son of God, a spear thrust in His side. Although Abraham could not see it, his faithful act of obedience served as a vivid prophetic portrayal of the atoning sacrifice of God's Son.

Almost every Christian, if not every Christian, is called at some point in his or her Christian life to a Mount Moriah type of experience, where God puts us to the test for His ultimate redemptive purposes. He may call each of us to sacrificial obedience for a greater good. When He does, may we remember that He is the Pilot. May we obey Him. He is not our co-pilot, He is our Pilot. Let the pilot pilot. It's the only way to fly.