Henrietta United Church of Christ

Rev. David Inglis                                                                                                     Genesis 22:1-19

September 21, 2008

“Possessing a Blessing”–Abraham’s Sacrifice

I first heard that voice in a dream–a nightmare, really.   In the dream, my son Isaac was little–maybe four or five.  He kept trying to get away from me, so I tied a rope around his neck and held onto him like an rambunctious animal on a leash.  The more I pulled on the leash, the more determined he became.  He was laughing at me as he jerked and pulled me this way and that.  I was afraid he was going to get away from me, and I’d lose my little son–forever.  And then I heard the voice–powerful and insistent: “Abraham, let go of him and give him to me.  He’s not yours; he’s mine.  Release him to me!”

I suddenly woke up with my fists clenched and my heart racing, saying, “No! He’s my son!  Nobody can have him!”  I looked around in the dark.  I was still in our tent, with Sarah snoring beside me, and my precious Isaac, who really was eleven, peacefully sleeping across from us.  Whew, it was just a dream.  But as I tried to get back to sleep, I wondered, Whose voice was that demanding that I give Isaac to him?

The next morning, as I dressed and ate breakfast, I couldn’t shake the feeling in the dream.  “Isaac!” I called.

“Yes, Father.”

“Come here and let me look at you, my son.”  I took his slender shoulders in my wrinkled hands.  “You know that you were given by God to your mother and me as a very special gift.”

“Yes, Father,” he said, rolling his eyes.  He had heard this many times before.

“You are the fulfillment of a promise nobody could have believed.”

“I know, Father.  Nobody my age has ever had parents as old as you.” 

“Nobody our age has ever, had children.  It was a miracle, Isaac!”

“I know, Father.  I just wish people didn’t stare it us all the time.”

“You are God’s blessing that God gave to us in our old age.  You were given to me to make of me a great nation. Our descendants will be as many as the stars in the sky, and many people will call me their father. You must become strong, and brave, and wise, and stop acting like a scared little boy.   Isaac, look at me when I’m talking to you!  Looking away makes you look weak! Yesterday, when that wild dog came up to the flock and went after that lamb, what did you do?  Look at me, Isaac!  What did you do?  You hid behind a bush!  So who was strong and brave and wise enough to pick up a big stick and yell and throw rocks at the dog to drive it away, and then stand between it and the flock to protect them in case it came back?  Isaac, look at me!  Who? . . . I’ll tell you who.  It was Abaz, the servant’s boy, who proved himself strong, brave and wise, wasn’t it?  And you proved yourself to be what, what?  A blessing?  A leader?  Or a frightened weakling?  Now Abaz knows who’s stronger, doesn’t he?  Now he can laugh at you, make fun of you, do anything he wants, and think he can get away with it!  And he can look at me, not as his master, but as the ancient father of a puny little mouse.  Isaac, stop crying like a baby and listen to me!  You must learn how to be strong, and prove to others that you are strong! Now you’ll have to prove to Abaz that you’re stronger than him, that you’re the leader, that you’re the son of your father Abraham, who will be the father of a great nation.  Do you think you’re able to beat Abaz?  He’s about your size. But he’s faster and tougher.  And he has courage.  We’ve got to get you into shape to be a true leader, young man.  Meet me back here after your chores, and we’ll see if we can make you into someone who can make me proud.”

As I went back into our tent, Sarah looked at me accusingly.  “Don’t you think you’re being pretty hard on Isaac, Abraham?  He’s just a boy.”

“He’s not just a boy,” I retorted.  “He was given to me by God to make my name great, and make me the father of a great nation.  Now it’s up to me to shape him into the kind of man who will be worthy of my name.” 

“Well, Abraham, don’t I also recall that God was going to make you a blessing, so that all the families of the earth would be blessed?  I always thought a blessing was a gift from God–something that we receive even though we’re not worthy, like we received Isaac as a gift in our old age.  If you hold a blessing in your grip and squeeze it into just what you want it to be, is it still a blessing from God?”

“Sarah, you...you think like a woman!” was all I could say as I stormed outside.

But the voice in the dream had come back to me as she spoke:  “Abraham, let go of him and give him to me.  He’s not yours; he’s mine.  Release him to me.”  Whose voice was that?  Could it be God’s voice speaking to me again?

That was ridiculous.  God had promised me that I would be the father of a great nation and had given us Isaac in our old age.  Does God cancel His promises, and take back what He has given?  I loved Isaac more than anything else.  He was my life, my hope, my reason for living.  Would God take this away from an old man who had picked up and left everything to follow God’s call? 

I put these thoughts out of my mind as I began putting Isaac through a tough training regimen to make him a leader worthy of my name.  But the harder I pushed him, and the more I made him see his weaknesses so he could correct them, the smaller he seemed to get. He never talked back.  He never rebelled.  He always tried to follow my orders and do his best.  But when I made him look at me when I was chiding him, I could see that the light had gone out of his eyes, and was replaced by a shadow of lostness, loneliness and fear.  I could see that I was squeezing the life out of the very gift God had given to Sarah and me, which was somehow meant to be a blessing not only for us but for the world. 

I thought back on the amazing journey of faith that had brought us to this place.  It had been such a struggle to trust God’s voice enough to leave our country and kindred and home as a childless couple advanced in years, and go to an unknown land that God said he would show us, and that He would give to our descendants.  But look what had happened!  God had fulfilled His amazing promise and given us a son.  Maybe Sarah was right.  Maybe this blessing wasn’t something for me to possess and remake into my own image.   Maybe I needed to let go of him, like the voice in the dream said, and release him to God somehow, so that God could use Isaac in His own way.

But how would I do that–release him back to God?  “God,” I prayed, “I’m not doing a good job of being a father to this blessing you have given us.  I have clutched him like he was mine, but I know he belongs to you and is for your plan.  Show me what I need to do to release him back to you.”

Then a picture flashed into my mind. I saw in my mind the sacrifices I had made to God of my choicest rams to show my gratitude and devotion to Him.  We believed that as the smoke from the burning animal rose up to heaven, the animal’s spirit rose up to be with God. I felt like God wanted to test me to see if I really meant what I had prayed.  God wanted me to be willing to sacrifice Isaac, my son whom I loved so much, as a burnt offering–to give him back to God utterly and completely. 

Would I be willing to do that–to let go of my blessing, my hope, my purpose, the future God had promised through me?  Would I?  Could I?   I desperately began to look for other ways to show God my heart had changed.  Couldn’t I just go easier on Isaac?  Couldn’t I train him in being devoted to God instead of toughening him up?  Couldn’t I sacrifice my best sheep–no, my whole flock?  But something inside me knew that as long as I held onto Isaac as my own with any part of me, I would keep tarnishing the blessing that he was meant to be a part of.

This test was even harder than leaving home at age 75 for an unknown land.  All I could do was trust that if I totally released Isaac to God, God would somehow use my sacrifice for something good.

“Sarah,” I said, “God has been speaking to me again.”

“Well, I hope at least He’s been able to get through to you,” was her supportive comment.

“You know,” I continued, “you were absolutely right, what you said about Isaac.  I’ve been so selfish, trying to make Isaac into what I want instead of what God wants for him. God seems to be telling me that I need to put God  first in my life again and trust Him completely.  I need to let go of Isaac, give him back to God in some way, so that I don’t mess up God’s plan. God wants me to go worship him on a mountain  He will show me, and offer a burnt offering to Him there.  God wants me to take Isaac with me.”

I told her as much as I dared.  She was so glad to hear me talking some sense that she didn’t suspect the awful detail I left out–what, or who, the burnt offering  was supposed to be. 

So we set off, Isaac and I and two of my young servants.  As we walked, I began to talk to Isaac in a way I never had talked to him, or anyone, before.  I told him that I loved him with all my heart. And I told him that I had made the mistake of loving him with all my pride too.  And I had loved him with my selfish fear that God’s plan wouldn’t happen if Isaac didn’t look and act like the great leader that I imagined, but that nobody could really be like–especially me.  I told him how sorry I was for hurting him, and for making him feel ashamed of who he was, which was wonderfully and perfectly the way God had intended him to be. 

Tears welled up in his eyes as I spoke to him, and he looked away, ashamed of looking weak.  I said with a quivering voice, “Son, look at your father when he’s talking to you.”  He looked, and saw the tears streaming down my face.  “I love you so much, my precious son, and I’m so sorry,” and I gathered  his small, shaking frame into my tearful embrace.

When the mountain finally came into sight off in the distance, I told the servants to stay with the donkey while we went to the mountain to worship.  As we went ahead, I said, “Isaac, God has told me that I need to put Him first in my life again.  I can’t hold onto you as my own possession, treating you like a mule I’m trying to break.  I have to release you to God because God can’t use you for His plan, if I’m holding onto you as my own. That’s why we’re going up this mountain–to make a sacrifice to show that we’re serious about putting God first.”

Isaac nodded and said  “Father, I see the wood and the fire, but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?”

What could I say?  “God Himself will provide the lamb for a burnt offering, my son.”

“Okay, but Father, I want to show God that I want to offer myself to be a part of God’s blessing.  Is there a way I can offer a sacrifice to God too?” 

With a quivering voice I said, “I’m sure God will provide a way for you to make a sacrifice to Him.”

When we reached the top of the mountain, I built an altar out of large rocks.  As I laid the wood for the fire my heart was starting to pound with anxiety. 

With a quivering voice I said, “Let’s pray to God to have Him show us what he wants us to do to put him first, above all our own selfishness.”

“Yes, let’s do,” Isaac said.  And we knelt together a long time, as I strained every strand of my spirit for listened for some way out.  But all I heard was the persistent whisper, “Abraham, let go of him and give him to me.  He’s not yours; he’s mine.  Release him to me.”

Finally I stood up.  Isaac’s face was more beautifully open than I had ever seen.  He was almost radiant.  “Did you hear any word from the Lord?” I asked him.

“Yes, and I felt Him very close. God wants me to trust Him, and to do whatever you tell me in obedience to Him, so I can be part of His plan.”

His answer almost took my breath away. 

“Isaac, do you know that I love you more than anyone, even more than myself?”

“Yes, Father, I know now that you do.”

“I don’t understand this, my son, but what I have been hearing is that God wants me to totally let go of you and to give you back to him as my sacrifice.  It seems like that’s the only way that God can use us to be a blessing to those who follow.  God wants me to give you to him, as the most precious thing I have, as a burnt offing to the Lord.”  

Isaac’s face looked so wise and mature as he quietly took this in.  Finally he walked over to the altar and let me boost him onto it, he lay down and said, “If this is how God wants us to be a blessing, who are we to disobey the Lord?” 

I bent over him and held him as I wept.  I gently tied the rope around him.  I lifted the knife in the air over his heart.  Could I release all my happiness, all my hopes, all my legacy–everything–back to God, and trust Him with it all?  Yes, I could.  Yes, I must. It was the only way to trust God with all I had and be in the center of His will.

At that very moment that I said Yes to God with all my being, a great sense of peace descended on me.  I was no longer at war with God or myself.  “Abraham,” a voice above me or inside me said, “you now fully know that Isaac is not yours to possess.  Do not harm him, for he is yours to care for. He indeed is a blessing from Me, intended for a plan that is beyond your comprehension. Because you have trusted me, I will make your offspring as numerous as the stars of heaven. By your offspring shall all the nations of the earth gain blessing for themselves, because you have trusted me and obeyed my voice.” 

When I looked up, my eye caught the movement of a distant thicket.  I went closer, and there was a ram caught in it by his horns!  I untied Isaac, and with immense awe and gratitude we offered the ram as a burnt offering to God.  And I called the place Jehovah Jireh, which means “God will provide.”

Now my friends, do not try this at home, with your own children!  Even now, I’m not sure if it was God Himself commanding me to sacrifice Isaac, or if it was my spirit telling me I had to be willing to release him totally to God in some dramatic way.  But I do know this: God does provide. God puts gifts in our hands all the time–our loved ones, our talents, our treasures, our days, our life.  Our hands can grasp these gifts as possessions to use for our selfish purposes.  Or our hands can open them for God to use to bless the world through us. Think of your life.  What are you possessing that God intended as a blessing?