The commandments begin with God saying, “You shall have no other gods before me. You shall not make for yourself a carved image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth.You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I the Lord your God am a jealous God.” I fear we did not take Him seriously. We do not take warning of just how real His jealousy is. Surely, Abraham’s faith stands as a shining example worthy of our attention and emulation. He obeyed the call of God, left his homeland, and trusted in the provisions and guidance of God. Then, when God promised He would make from him a great nation, more numerous than the stars in the sky, he believed. He believed all families of the earth would be blessed through him, and that faith was counted to him as righteousness. Yet, his story is one full of powerful twists and turns, of heartbreak and disappointment. Setback after setback befall him. But finally, he sees with his own eyes the proof of God’s faithfulness. As an old man, he gets to cherish his time with a son named Issac.

Isaac is the answered prayer of Abraham and his wife Sara. He is the fulfilment of the promises of God. He is their everything, their joy and assurance. Imagine that, as they raised him, as they taught him the teachings of God, as they played with him and watched him grow, their own faith was continually being confirmed by his very existence. Then comes the most heartbreaking call a man can possibly bear. “Abraham!” God says, “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 on one of the mountains of which I shall tell you.” Take your son, your only son, whom you love, and sacrifice him. Sacrifice what you love more than anything else. Sacrifice the very fulfillment of the promise I made to you. Sacrifice your faith and your love.

The Jewish people call the sacrifice of Issac, “The Binding,” for it is the only sacrifice in the scriptures where the offering is bound up. It is also the only one which is kept alive up to the point of laying it on the altar. But again, think about the heartbreak when he loads up his son with the wood, takes the fire and knife himself, and they begin to head up the mountain. Issac says, “My father! Behold, the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?” Where indeed! Abraham responds saying, “God will provide for Himself the lamb for a burnt offering, my son.” Every step he took closer to the spot for the sacrifice must have been terrifying, each movement a trembling. Would he have to kill his own son? Would God really require of him this very promise of life and hope? It surely seemed so.

Of course, when it comes to trials of faith, we can all thank God that our trials pale in comparison to those of Abraham. Then again, perhaps we are simply better than him at ignoring the call and demands of our God. We have developed quite the ability of selectively hearing the Word which lays claim over the things we love in life. Many years ago, I remember an exchange in a little “biker bar” down the street from our home in Southeast Georgia. This lady who I knew was in an argument with a guy about the faith. She was a professing Christian. He was a devout atheist. In an emphatic testimony to her commitment she said, “You could put a gun to my head and tell me to deny my Lord or forfeit my life, and I would tell you to pull the trigger.” Pretty powerful, right? The problem was, God was not demanding her to forfeit her life in a dramatic way. However, he did call for her devotion to His Word, for sexual purity, for a life of quiet service to the least of His children, but these were not big on her list of commitments. You see, it turns out we can be quite selective in our obedience.

What we learn from the story of Abraham is that the real struggle, the real testing in our life, does not come with those things we know we should not do, or the things we would rather not be a part of anyway. It is not theoretical testimonies. The real struggle is when God demands from us the very things we love, the things which are good, right, and a joy in our life. Like that lady in the argument with the atheist, we can ignore that call. We can be very selective in what Word of God we allow to sink in. But eventually, God gets hold of us. Eventually, we cannot ignore or run from His call upon us, not if we are to be His disciples, and not if we are to be His chosen people. And His call can be stunning. It may be the sacrifice of a child, but it just might be the sacrifice of your pride or the comforts of your life. It might be cherished relationships or your quest for happiness.

Our God is a jealous God, and He will allow no other gods to stand before Him, no matter how wholesome and delightful those gods are to you. And all those things that you hold on to, all the things which give you a sense of yourself, the things that are part of your identity, fill your life with meaning and purpose, and are a source of lasting security, all of those things can, and often do, become our gods. To let them go, to sacrifice them, this hurts. It tears at the core of who we are. In fact, unlike Abraham, we will often hold tight to them and refuse to climb up the mountain to offer them on the altar. But God, slowly but surely, exposes their inability to be what we want them to be. Our beautiful god’s fail us. They wither, though we love them so much, and our jealous Creator just might bring them to ruin before our tear-stained eyes.

Therefore, our father Abraham stands before us as a powerful witness to the gift of faith, even in the face of unimaginable trials. Abraham is called to sacrifice his son and goes through with it. Yet, did you notice what he said to his servant when they got to Moriah? He says, “Stay here with the donkey; I and the boy will go over there, and worship and we will come again to you.” He knows he is called to sacrifice his son. He has the wood, the knife, and the fire, but he is still confident in the promise of God and that somehow, someway they will come back. In fact, later in the book of Hebrews it says this, “By faith Abraham, when he was tested, offered up Isaac, and he who had received the promises was in the act of offering up his only son, of whom it was said, ‘Through Isaac shall your offspring be named.’ He considered that God was able even to raise him from the dead, from which, figuratively speaking, he did receive him back.”

As he binds up his son, lays him on the altar, and raises the deadly knife to do the unimaginable, an angel of the Lord stops him in the moment. His faith proved to be enough. He would fear, love, and trust in God above all things, even in the face of the terror and pain of that moment. Then, turning, what does he see? He spots a ram caught in a thicket by his horns. And there his confident words to his son come true. The Lord will provide for Himself a sacrifice, a substitute in the place of His only Son. But this is just a glimpse of how truly spectacular God’s provision would eventually be.

Because, let us be honest, where Abraham succeeds, you will fail. You fail to lay your sacrifices on the altar. You fail to fear, love, and trust in God above all things. It hurts too much. It seems too unreasonable. You will sacrifice some things, trivial things, but not those which are truly precious to you. With great regularity, you fail the testing laid on your life.

But here is the good news, the Lord will provide. He will provide for Himself a sacrifice. He will provide His own Son, His only Son, the One He loves. And He lays Jesus on the altar for you, for your sin, for your unfaithfulness. And this time, He does not withhold the knife. The Lord will provide, and He has provided. “It is finished,” declares our Lord upon Calvary’s cross. Payment has been made. Forgiveness is proclaimed. You are forgiven. You are redeemed. You are now invited to recline at the table with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob for all eternity… for the Lord has provided.