Abraham offers Isaac at Moriah

How many times have I read this passage. Certainly more than a thousand. I still struggle getting inside the moment. Imagining myself in Abraham. Imagining myself in Isaac. What would I be thinking if this was my life, my calling.

I remember marveling in my mind at Abraham’s extraordinary faith – “that I could have faith like Abraham.” I said that. Yet I hear the voice of a dear friend saying, “I could never follow any God who would cruelly test Abraham by asking him to choose between Him and his son.”

It was simpler before I had children.

Sure there is context. The religious practices of the people living around Abraham included child sacrifice.

Yet, I can’t imagine seeing my own son as the person I know him to be and willing this. I love him – almost desperately. Anachronistically, I would fail this test. I would sooner go to hell.

But God is God. A declaration of atheism doesn’t really relieve this burden. Following God is optional. A decision.

Existence is not. His existence is not. I exist. The ground of my being cannot be denied.

Isaac bound and lying on the altar. What does this mean?

Abraham had objectified his son. This child was not just any child. He was the hope of future progeny, the vehicle of promises fulfilled, the means to a great and glorious end. In other words, a useful object.

Abraham placed Isaac “the object” on the altar of sacrifice. At God’s command, he untied and raised up Isaac “the person”. Neither was ever again the same.

As father, as human person, I am called to do the same.