A real man, a real boy, walked up the mountain together—the young man bent under the wood for the burnt offering, the father striding behind, carrying the fire and the knife. “But where is the lamb for the sacrifice?” Isaac asked.
“God himself will provide the lamb for the burnt offering, my son,” replied Abraham.
We have heard the story before. We know how it ends. But what if we didn’t? What if Isaac had been our son, the fulfillment of a promise God had made to us? Could we have traveled for three days to Mount Moriah, the place of sacrifice, dreading the moment and yet walking steadily toward it? Could we have taken the knife in our own hand, willing ourselves to obey the command we did not understand and wished we had not heard? It is hard to read the story without imagining how Abraham must have felt. Was his hand shaking as he held the knife? Was his mind reeling under the burden of the terrible command he was about to obey? It is not hard to imagine his agony.
But have you ever considered it from God’s point of view?
Watching the man and his son, did God feel something tearing at his heart, knowing that what he asked but did not require of Abraham—the sacrifice of his only son—he would one day require of himself?
