Abraham - the man known to Jews, Christians and Muslims as
the Father of the Faithful.
It was evening at the oasis under the oaks of Mamre.
Evening in the Near East is always the most delightful time of
the day. The yellow hills and sandy plains take on a soft and
friendly color when night comes down, and the cool south wind
begins to blow softly, refreshing the soul. Most evenings
Abraham could be found there, sitting before the black tents. He
would watch the children playing, listen to the contented sounds
of the flocks and herds nearby, contemplate the day just
complete. But not this evening.
As this day draws to its close, Abraham is two days' journey
away. He and his young son Isaac along with two servants are in
the desert to the north. They have made camp for the night on
their way to the Mountains of Moriah. Abraham had passed this
way before, many years ago, on his way from Shechem to Egypt
during the great famine. Under any other circumstance, Abraham
might have recalled that journey for his young companions as they
sat by the crackling fire. But this night, the normally
talkative man was uncharacteristically quiet. In fact, he had
said little during this whole trip.
Isaac had worried. "Father, what is troubling you? Why are
you so silent? Have I done something to offend?"
"No, my son, everything is all right."
But everything was NOT all right. How could it be? Abraham
had made many journeys in his life, but none like this one. You
see, this was not so much a journey as a mission - Abraham had
been given a task by the Most High God, and this man of faith was
carrying it out.
As the darkness drew more closely around the little group,
the servants and Isaac conversed by the fire while Abraham stood
up and walked a few yards away. With the firelight to his back
he looked toward the heavens and saw the vast panoply of stars
exploding against the blackening desert sky. So many other
nights the sight had brought a smile to the old man's face as he
recalled the promise God had made him so long ago: "Look toward
heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them...So
shall your descendants be." (1)
The promise had seemed ridiculous at the time. He and Sarah
knew the facts of life, and they knew that, as far as a child was
concerned, the issue was closed - too old. But a son WAS born to
them. No wonder he would normally be so pleased at the view of
this celestial panorama! But not this night. As Abraham gazed
toward the heavens, his view was blurred - yes, the stars
glistened; any light glistens when seen by eyes filled with
tears.
Abraham kept his back to his companions as warm streams
began to run down his cheeks and moisten the gray strands of his
beard. As he stood there his thoughts drifted back through the
years to the first time he had heard the voice of the Almighty -
the call to leave his ancestral lands in Ur of the Chaldees and
travel to an unknown destination where he would found a great
nation. He heard that all humanity would be blessed through him
and his children. Of course, it sounded unreal. But despite the
ridicule of friends who could not fathom a mature and successful
man uprooting kith and kin, severing connections, giving up
comfort and convenience to live as a nomad in some strange who-knows-where land, Abraham answered the divine call. He finally
settled in Canaan.
Life had been hard at first, especially during the famine.
As Abraham thought back on the journey to Egypt, with
embarrassment he remembered telling Sarah to say they were not
husband and wife but brother and sister. With a sense of shame
he recalled telling the Egyptians to "Do with her whatever you
please; just leave me alone." Abraham's faith in the God who had
given him a new home wavered when it came to faith that this same
God could keep him safe. Foolish man. "Behind the dim unknown
standeth God within the shadow, keeping watch above His own." (2)
Both Abraham and Sarah were kept safe, and they returned to
Canaan both wiser and wealthier than they had ever been.
God had promised land, but in a desert where pastures were
few and far between, disputes were bound to arise. Problems with
the locals might be expected, but Abraham even had trouble in his
own household. His own servants and those of his nephew Lot who,
with his family, had also made the journey from Ur, began to
quarrel over care of the livestock. Finally, there was no choice
but for the two families to separate. In a magnanimous gesture
Uncle Abraham gave Lot the choice of territory - Lot chose the
fertile Jordan valley near the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah (an
inauspicious choice, as it turned out). Abraham was left with
the rocky hillsides. No matter. God spoke to Abraham again:
"Raise your eyes now, and look from the place where you are,
northward and southward and eastward and westward: for all the
land that you see I will give to you and to your offspring
forever. And I will make your offspring like the dust of the
earth: so that if one can count the dust of the earth, your
offspring also can be counted." (3)
"Your offspring." How ironic, Abraham thought. For so many
years, there had been no "offspring," no child, in his tents.
Sarah's womb had been shut. She had been more distressed than
her husband at her inability to conceive, finally offering her
handmaid Hagar as a surrogate. Hagar DID give Abraham a son,
Ishmael, but he was not Sarah's son. It was only after years and
years of frustration, after all hope was gone because Sarah was
no longer physically able to have children, that Isaac had come
along. It was a miracle. Nothing less.
A desert wolf howled in the distance. As Abraham stood
there under the darkening sky, he stole a glance back toward the
campfire at his son. How he loved that boy. He thought back to
those first years with Isaac. This child of their old age had
given his parents so much joy...they glowed with pride as they
watched him learn to eat and walk and play the little games with
the other children. He was the child of God's promise. If
through Abraham a great nation would come, then it would be
through Isaac as well. Yes, Isaac was just a child, but he was a
child of destiny.
Abraham's reflections were interrupted. "Father, are you
coming to sleep? I have prepared your bed next to mine." The
desert sky was like pitch now. Abraham saw that the two servants
and his precious boy were ready for rest. The flickering fire
was reduced to glowing embers. In silence the old man came over
and wearily laid down.
This was now the third night Abraham would get only fitful
rest. You see, this man of faith, this one who had built altars
for sacrifice to the Lord over the length and breadth of the
land, three days before had again heard the voice of God, this
time asking for one more sacrifice. God had said, "Take your
son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of
Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering." What? The
command had struck Abraham numb. How could God ask such a thing?
No wonder Abraham had not been able to sleep. It was no
moral problem that troubled him, for it was common custom in
Abraham's world to make a religious sacrifice of one's own
offspring. Perhaps it should not have surprised him that his God
should expect at least as much dedication from him as the
Canaanite pagans were willing to offer their own gods. It was
not that which shook Abraham. His shock was emotional,
certainly, for he loved his handsome Isaac. But the real shock
was this apparent change of destiny. Was it not through Isaac
that the great blessings were to flow? Why had the Lord given
the boy in the first place if now he would be taken? Why would
God have made such magnificent promises if now they are to be
recalled? What would he tell Sarah to whom Isaac had been the
answer to every prayer? Life had lost its meaning for Abraham
and seemed dust and ashes in his mouth. Who could sleep?
By morning light the next day, Abraham had fought his battle
through. This man of faith might find God inscrutable, but he
knew God to be reliable - he was ready to do the divine bidding.
He told Sarah that he was going afar off to Mount Moriah to make
an offering and would take Isaac with him. There was the bustle
of preparation for the pilgrimage. The boy ran about helping the
servants to gather the wood, saddle the donkey, fill the water
gourds, and make ready for the expedition. Like all young sons,
he was eager for a trip with his dad.
At length breakfast was over and the fond Sarah drew Isaac
to her and kissed him. Abraham's eyes misted over (as they would
so often over the hours that followed), and he turned his face
away from the scene. In a moment, he too embraced Sarah, but in
a more perfunctory manner than normal. She looked at her husband
quizzically as he too-quickly pulled away, but dutiful wife that
she was, she raised no question; she just said her farewells.
"God be with you."
Two days had passed now. Abraham lay there under the stars.
He was shivering - the night breeze was cool; he pulled his robes
around him. The incessant chirping of the crickets mocked his
feeble attempt at rest. How could he rest knowing that, in just
a few hours, at the dawning of the new day, he would take his
beloved Isaac and kill him.
At daybreak the pilgrims could see the dim outline of the
mountains which were their destination. "Stay here with the
donkey," Abraham instructed the servants, "the boy and I will go
over there; we will worship." The bundle of twigs for the fire
was laid on Isaac's back; Abraham carried the knife and tinder
with which to start the fire. Off they went, over the sandy
brush-covered hills and down the dry dales. Soon they began to
ascend a narrow mountain path, stopping now and then for the
aging father to catch his breath.
When they were halfway up, and taking one of their periodic
rests, Isaac said, "Father...The fire and the wood are here, but
where is the lamb for a burnt offering?"
As Abraham looked at his boy, his answer almost choked him
coming out: "God himself will provide a lamb for a burnt
offering, my son."
Isaac wondered how that could be, out here in the middle of
the wilderness. But the lad had learned to trust his father and
to trust his father's God; so he asked no further questions.
Soon they arrived at a clearing. Together father and son
gathered the stones, built the waist-high altar and set the wood
on top. Still there was no sign of any lamb and Isaac began to
wonder. Then Abraham told him. If this journey had been an
exhibition of supreme faith for Abraham, what must this moment
have been for the youthful Isaac? Had he been so minded, with
his robust young arm he might have seized the knife from his
aging father's hand and turned the tables. But like one who
would come later, "as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, he
opened not his mouth." (4)
With his son now prostrate on that pile of wood and stone,
tears streaming down both faces, Abraham raised the knife and
poised it aloft, its blade flashing in the bright mountain
sunlight. The old man was ready to return the gift that God had
given. "The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; blessed be
the name of the Lord." (5) But just as he was about to make the
downward plunge, Abraham heard that voice from heaven again:
"Abraham, Abraham."
"Here am I."
"Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him; for
now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your
son, your only son, from me."
What? Could he believe his ears? What a relief! The tears
were still steaming down the old man's face, only now they flowed
in joy rather than sorrow. The knife was still at the ready in
the old man's hand. Isaac raised his head from the rocky pillow.
Suddenly something caught their eyes - it was a ram caught in a
thicket. Quickly Abraham cut the cords that had bound his boy
and together they seized the ram and offered it on the altar.
Abraham had passed the test.
Their worship concluded, father and son descended Mount
Moriah. As they made their way down the rocky path, the heavenly
voice came once more: "Because you have done this, and have not
withheld your son, your only son, I will indeed bless you, and I
will make your offspring as numerous as the stars of heaven and
as the sand that is on the seashore...and by your offspring shall
all the nations of the earth gain blessing for themselves,
because you have obeyed my voice." Think of that! All humanity
forever blessed because one man, one very imperfect man, obeyed
God.
There are always Moriahs that dot the landscape on the
journey of faith, moments when the call comes to sacrifice. They
come to me, they come to you, just as they came to Abraham. What
made him special and earned him the title of Father of the
Faithful was that, despite his occasional wavering, he put feet
on his faith, and even when he did not understand where God was
leading, he followed. The scripture calls Abraham the friend of
God. What will I be called? What will you be called?
Amen!
1. Genesis 15:5
2. James Russell Lowell, "The Present Crisis,"
http://lowell.classicauthors.net/PoemsOfJamesRussellLowell/
3. Genesis 13:14-16
4. Isaiah 53:7
5. Job 2:1
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