The Wood, the Binding, and the Willing Son

I​ ​cannot​ ​help​ ​but​ ​think​ ​that​ ​Abraham's​ ​heart​ ​was​ ​broken​ ​to​ ​have​ ​lived​ ​through​ ​such​ ​a  day.​ ​​ ​Covered​ ​in​ ​ram's​ ​blood​ ​and​ ​speechless​ ​to​ ​explain​ ​his​ ​tears.​ ​​ ​Sarah,​ ​on​ ​the​ ​other  hand​ ​–​ ​I​ ​bet​ ​she​ ​had​ ​plenty​ ​to​ ​say​ ​when​ ​they​ ​all​ ​got​ ​home.​ ​​ ​I​ ​can​ ​only​ ​read​ ​this​ ​story​ ​as​ ​a  mama,​ ​not​ ​a​ ​preacher.​ ​​ ​Or,​ ​at​ ​least,​ ​everything​ ​my​ ​preacher​ ​mouth​ ​says​ ​is​ ​filtered  through​ ​my​ ​mama​ ​heart​ ​and​ ​brain.​ ​​ ​

I'm​ ​here​ ​to​ ​tell​ ​ya,​ ​I​ ​wouldn't​ ​do​ ​it:​ ​​ ​sacrifice​ ​my  child,​ ​take​ ​one​ ​step​ ​at​ ​the​ ​suggestion​ ​of​ ​sacrificing​ ​my​ ​own​ ​child​ ​to​ ​prove​ ​my​ ​devotion​ ​to  God.​ ​​ ​I'd​ ​sooner​ ​cut​ ​my​ ​own​ ​throat.​ ​​ ​And​ ​Lord​ ​help​ ​him​ ​if​ ​my​ ​husband​ ​did​ ​what  Abraham​ ​did​ ​and​ ​I​ ​found​ ​out​ ​about​ ​it.​ ​​ ​Even​ ​if​ ​he​ ​did​ ​bring​ ​the​ ​boy​ ​home,​ ​I'd​ ​never  speak​ ​to​ ​him​ ​again.​ ​​ ​He'd​ ​be​ ​dead​ ​to​ ​me​ ​whether​ ​or​ ​not​ ​he​ ​breathed.  

Sarah​ ​herself​ ​dies​ ​in​ ​the​ ​next​ ​chapter.​ ​​ ​Granted​ ​she​ ​was​ ​127​ ​years​ ​old,​ ​but​ ​still.​ ​​ ​After​ ​all  the​ ​stuff​ ​Abraham​ ​pulled,​ ​like​ ​the​ ​time​ ​he​ ​passed​ ​her​ ​off​ ​as​ ​his​ ​sister​ ​–​ ​essentially​ ​gave  her​ ​to​ ​a​ ​foreign​ ​king​ ​for​ ​a​ ​couple​ ​of​ ​nights​ ​to​ ​save​ ​his​ ​own​ ​skin!​ ​​ ​This​ ​stunt​ ​with​ ​Isaac,​ ​I  believe,​ ​is​ ​what​ ​finally​ ​did​ ​her​ ​in.  

I'm​ ​gonna​ ​go​ ​ahead​ ​and​ ​tell​ ​you​ ​the​ ​end​ ​of​ ​the​ ​sermon​ ​now,​ ​the​ ​only​ ​sense​ ​I​ ​can​ ​make​ ​of  so​ ​obscene,​ ​so​ ​outrageous​ ​a​ ​story:​ ​​ ​​ ​we​ ​simply​ ​are​ ​not​ ​capable​ ​of​ ​the​ ​faith​ ​to​ ​which​ ​God  calls​ ​us,​ ​this​ ​call​ ​to​ ​give​ ​up​ ​everything,​ ​to​ ​leave​ ​home​ ​and​ ​family​ ​as​ ​if​ ​they​ ​were​ ​nothing  more​ ​to​ ​us​ ​than​ ​property,​ ​to​ ​trust​ ​God​ ​alone​ ​and​ ​altogether,​ ​no​ ​matter​ ​how​ ​terrible​ ​the  circumstance.​ ​​ ​WE​ ​cannot​ ​do​ ​it.​ ​​ ​Such​ ​faith​ ​can​ ​only​ ​come​ ​FROM​ ​God.  

The​ ​wood,​ ​the​ ​binding,​ ​and​ ​the​ ​willing​ ​son​ ​of​ ​Genesis​ ​22​ ​is​ ​the​ ​worst​ ​story​ ​imaginable​ ​–  the​ ​stuff​ ​of​ ​nightmares.​ ​​ ​And​ ​yet,​ ​here​ ​it​ ​is​ ​in​ ​the​ ​Bible,​ ​front​ ​and​ ​center,​ ​just​ ​daring​ ​us​ ​to  keep​ ​believing​ ​in​ ​the​ ​Creative​ ​God​ ​who​ ​brings​ ​life​ ​from​ ​death.  

Why​ ​would​ ​such​ ​a​ ​God​ ​ask​ ​such​ ​a​ ​thing?​ ​​ ​The​ ​rabbis​ ​and​ ​scholars​ ​are​ ​rife​ ​with​ ​ideas.  Many​ ​of​ ​them​ ​say​ ​it's​ ​a​ ​test​ ​of​ ​obedience,​ ​of​ ​ultimate​ ​faith​ ​in​ ​God.​ ​​ ​Taken​ ​at​ ​face​ ​value,  the​ ​Old​ ​Testament​ ​would​ ​have​ ​us​ ​imagine​ ​Abraham​ ​never​ ​wavered.​ ​​ ​"Okay,​ ​God,​ ​no  problem​ ​God.”​ ​​ ​He​ ​packed,​ ​he​ ​walked,​ ​he​ ​put​ ​the​ ​wood​ ​on​ ​his​ ​son's​ ​back​ ​and​ ​picked​ ​up  the​ ​fire​ ​and​ ​the​ ​knife.​ ​​ ​He​ ​bound​ ​his​ ​son​ ​and​ ​raised​ ​the​ ​knife.​ ​​ ​

How​ ​old​ ​is​ ​this​ ​child,​ ​by  the​ ​way?​ ​​ ​Little,​ ​like​ ​Aden​ ​and​ ​Reed?​ ​​ ​Almost​ ​grown​ ​like​ ​Andy?​ ​​ ​Full-grown​ ​like​ ​Rob?  Abraham​ ​calls​ ​him​ ​a​ ​boy​ ​–​ ​which​ ​means​ ​nothing.​ ​​ ​Carl’s​ ​daddy​ ​called​ ​him​ ​“sweetheart”  his​ ​whole​ ​life.​ ​​ ​We​ ​don't​ ​know.​ ​​ ​There's​ ​no​ ​suggestion​ ​the​ ​boy​ ​struggled.​ ​​ ​He​ ​appears​ ​to  have​ ​been​ ​light​ ​enough​ ​for​ ​a​ ​100-year-old​ ​man​ ​to​ ​subdue,​ ​so​ ​probably​ ​not​ ​a​ ​toddler.​ ​​ ​Or,  more​ ​likely,​ ​he​ ​just​ ​trusted​ ​his​ ​daddy​ ​that​ ​much.  

So​ ​Abraham​ ​raised​ ​his​ ​knife​ ​to​ ​the​ ​throat​ ​of​ ​his​ ​boy​ ​and​ ​the​ ​angel​ ​believed​ ​he​ ​would​ ​do  it.​ ​​ ​The​ ​rabbis​ ​arguing​ ​the​ ​passage​ ​since​ ​then​ ​don't​ ​agree.​ ​​ ​Half​ ​of​ ​them​ ​are​ ​on​ ​the​ ​angels'  side.​ ​​ ​Others​ ​believe​ ​Abraham​ ​knew​ ​all​ ​along​ ​God​ ​would​ ​not​ ​make​ ​him​ ​go​ ​through​ ​with  it.​ ​​ ​Either​ ​way,​ ​it​ ​reads​ ​to​ ​me​ ​like​ ​a​ ​sadistic​ ​game​ ​God​ ​is​ ​playing​ ​with​ ​the​ ​life​ ​of​ ​a​ ​child.  No​ ​theological​ ​point​ ​rises​ ​to​ ​such​ ​worth. 

But​ ​here’s​ ​the​ ​thing:​ ​​ ​however​ ​outrageous​ ​the​ ​story,​ ​this​ ​is​ ​not​ ​an​ ​entirely​ ​abstract  situation.​ ​​ ​Such​ ​predicaments​ ​happen​ ​all​ ​the​ ​time.​ ​​ ​At​ ​Riley​ ​Hospital​ ​this​ ​very​ ​minute there​ ​are​ ​parents​ ​in​ ​the​ ​crucible​ ​of​ ​horrible,​ ​impossible​ ​decisions​ ​about​ ​their​ ​kids'​ ​lives,  who​ ​want​ ​to​ ​know​ ​WHY​ ​God​ ​has​ ​put​ ​them​ ​in​ ​this​ ​nightmare.​ ​​ ​In​ ​Yemen,​ ​South​ ​Sudan,  Syria,​ ​people​ ​are​ ​watching​ ​their​ ​own​ ​children​ ​starve.​ ​​ ​Do​ ​they​ ​feed​ ​each​ ​of​ ​them​ ​a​ ​little  so​ ​that​ ​they​ ​starve​ ​more​ ​slowly,​ ​or​ ​stop​ ​feeding​ ​one​ ​so​ ​the​ ​others​ ​might​ ​live​ ​and​ ​be​ ​well? 

If​ ​the​ ​whole​ ​world​ ​is​ ​in​ ​God's​ ​hands,​ ​are​ ​those​ ​parents​ ​and​ ​kids​ ​in​ ​God's​ ​hands​ ​too?​ ​​ ​Is  God​ ​accountable​ ​for​ ​their​ ​crisis?​ ​​ ​I​ ​do​ ​not​ ​know.​ ​​ ​The​ ​best​ ​I​ ​can​ ​unravel​ ​it​ ​is​ ​this​ ​–​ ​and  believe​ ​you​ ​me,​ ​I​ ​know​ ​how​ ​far​ ​short​ ​of​ ​a​ ​satisfying​ ​answer​ ​this​ ​is: 

ONE:​ ​​ ​God​ ​made​ ​humans​ ​for​ ​companionship​ ​and​ ​co-creation,​ ​to​ ​be​ ​God's​ ​friends​ ​and  partners​ ​in​ ​caring​ ​for​ ​the​ ​rest​ ​of​ ​the​ ​world.​ ​​ ​But​ ​robots​ ​can't​ ​be​ ​friends,​ ​so​ ​we​ ​were​ ​made  free;​ ​God​ ​made​ ​us​ ​free​ ​to​ ​choose​ ​friendship​ ​and​ ​partnership​ ​with​ ​God,​ ​or​ ​not.​ ​​ ​When​ ​and  where​ ​we​ ​choose​ ​yes,​ ​creation​ ​thrives.​ ​​ ​When​ ​and​ ​where​ ​we​ ​don't,​ ​creation​ ​suffers​ ​–​ ​us  included. 

TWO:​ ​​ ​The​ ​name​ ​"Abraham”​ ​​ ​means​ ​"Father​ ​of​ ​Many,”​ ​which​ ​God​ ​gave​ ​Abram​ ​when​ ​God  first​ ​made​ ​him​ ​this​ ​promise​ ​to​ ​be​ ​the​ ​Father​ ​of​ ​a​ ​nation,​ ​with​ ​progeny​ ​as​ ​numerous​ ​as  the​ ​stars.​ ​​ ​This​ ​is​ ​in​ ​Genesis,​ ​chapter​ ​12.​ ​​ ​"Father​ ​of​ ​Many”​ ​sounded​ ​kind​ ​of​ ​like​ ​a​ ​joke,  since​ ​Abraham​ ​and​ ​his​ ​wife​ ​Sarah​ ​were​ ​older​ ​than​ ​old,​ ​and​ ​so​ ​far​ ​they​ ​had​ ​exactly​ ​zero  children. 

But​ ​Abraham​ ​and​ ​Sarah​ ​went​ ​along​ ​with​ ​it.​ ​​ ​They​ ​picked​ ​up​ ​and​ ​moved​ ​from​ ​where​ ​they  were​ ​and​ ​traveled​ ​forever​ ​and​ ​had​ ​lots​ ​of​ ​adventures,​ ​but​ ​no​ ​babies.​ ​​ ​In​ ​chapter​ ​17,​ ​God  promises​ ​Abraham​ ​that​ ​he​ ​is​ ​going​ ​to​ ​have​ ​soooo​ ​many​ ​kids​ ​and​ ​grandkids,​ ​and​ ​they​ ​will  all​ ​come​ ​through​ ​the​ ​son​ ​he's​ ​going​ ​to​ ​have​ ​by​ ​Sarah,​ ​who​ ​is​ ​approaching​ ​her​ ​90th  birthday​ ​pretty​ ​fast.​ ​​ ​Understandably​ ​she​ ​gets​ ​impatient,​ ​and​ ​in​ ​a​ ​moment​ ​of​ ​poor  judgment​ ​she​ ​offered​ ​Abraham​ ​her​ ​maid​ ​Hagar​ ​for​ ​the​ ​night.​ ​​ ​Abraham​ ​resisted​ ​of  course,​ ​knowing​ ​there​ ​was​ ​no​ ​way​ ​this​ ​could​ ​possibly​ ​end​ ​well​ ​–​ ​but​ ​he​ ​only​ ​argued​ ​for  all​ ​of​ ​about​ ​ten​ ​seconds,​ ​and​ ​Hagar​ ​got​ ​pregnant.  

By​ ​the​ ​time​ ​Hagar's​ ​baby​ ​was​ ​about​ ​to​ ​be​ ​born,​ ​Sarah​ ​realized​ ​the​ ​mess​ ​this​ ​was​ ​and  made​ ​Abraham​ ​send​ ​her​ ​away,​ ​and​ ​Hagar​ ​ends​ ​ups​ ​stranded​ ​in​ ​the​ ​desert​ ​with​ ​a  screaming​ ​newborn.​ ​​ ​So​ ​that’s​ ​when​ ​God​ ​tells​ ​Abraham,​ ​“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.”​ ​​ ​Well,​ ​I​ ​just​ ​think​ ​that​ ​is​ ​pretty​ ​crappy​ ​of​ ​God​ ​to​ ​act​ ​like​ ​Abraham​ ​doesn't​ ​have  two​ ​boys.​ ​​ ​But​ ​that​ ​isn't​ ​the​ ​point​ ​at​ ​the​ ​moment​ ​–​ ​the​ ​point​ ​being,​ ​in​ ​chapter​ ​21​ ​the​ ​Bible  says,​ ​finally​ ​God​ ​did​ ​for​ ​Sarah​ ​as​ ​God​ ​had​ ​promised.​ ​​ ​And​ ​she​ ​has​ ​this​ ​sweet,​ ​sweet​ ​boy,  whom​ ​she​ ​names​ ​Laughter. 

Here's​ ​why​ ​I​ ​call​ ​the​ ​story​ ​a​ ​sadistic​ ​game:​ ​​ ​it's​ ​bad​ ​enough​ ​one​ ​should​ ​threaten​ ​a​ ​child.  But​ ​God????​ ​​ ​And​ ​this​ ​child,​ ​the​ ​child​ ​so​ ​long​ ​promised?​ ​​ ​But​ ​again:​ ​​ ​ordained​ ​and  orchestrated​ ​by​ ​God​ ​or​ ​not,​ ​the​ ​world​ ​operates​ ​just​ ​like​ ​this​ ​all​ ​the​ ​time,​ ​does​ ​it​ ​not?​ ​​ ​If  you​ ​want​ ​to​ ​blame​ ​God,​ ​I​ ​think​ ​that's​ ​okay.​ ​​ ​I​ ​think​ ​God​ ​is​ ​big​ ​enough​ ​to​ ​handle​ ​it.​ ​​ ​And  this:​ ​​ ​while​ ​Genesis​ ​22​ ​may​ ​be​ ​a​ ​central​ ​story​ ​in​ ​the​ ​text,​ ​it​ ​is​ ​not​ ​the​ ​first​ ​nor​ ​the​ ​last  word​ ​regarding​ ​the​ ​heart​ ​and​ ​purposes​ ​of​ ​God. 

AND​ ​THIS​ ​is​ ​#THREE:​ ​​ ​The​ ​wood,​ ​the​ ​binding​ ​and​ ​the​ ​willing​ ​son​ ​do​ ​not​ ​just​ ​appear​ ​here.  The​ ​story​ ​of​ ​the​ ​text​ ​–​ ​of​ ​God​ ​in​ ​the​ ​lives​ ​of​ ​humanity,​ ​of​ ​our​ ​lives​ ​in​ ​Christ,​ ​our​ ​life  together,​ ​and​ ​our​ ​life​ ​in​ ​this​ ​world​ ​–​ ​is​ ​the​ ​great​ ​arc​ ​of​ ​the​ ​story​ ​of​ ​God​ ​and​ ​God's​ ​people,  played​ ​over​ ​and​ ​over​ ​in​ ​the​ ​scriptures,​ ​playing​ ​over​ ​and​ ​over​ ​in​ ​the​ ​church,​ ​playing​ ​over  and​ ​over​ ​in​ ​my​ ​own​ ​walk​ ​with​ ​God.​ ​​ ​Just​ ​like​ ​with​ ​Abraham:​ ​​ ​God​ ​calls,​ ​God​ ​blesses,​ ​God  tests,​ ​God​ ​provides.​ ​​ ​People​ ​are​ ​called​ ​and​ ​blessed​ ​and​ ​tested.​ ​​ ​Inevitably​ ​they​ ​fail.  Inevitably​ ​they​ ​are​ ​loved​ ​and​ ​wanted​ ​and​ ​redeemed​ ​and​ ​made​ ​whole​ ​again. 

Despite​ ​all​ ​our​ ​desires​ ​and​ ​best​ ​intentions,​ ​fear​ ​overwhelms​ ​us​ ​more​ ​often​ ​than​ ​faith.  And​ ​what​ ​do​ ​we​ ​discover?​ ​​ ​We​ ​are​ ​not​ ​lost​ ​after​ ​all,​ ​but​ ​rather,​ ​God​ ​has​ ​come​ ​along​ ​to  take​ ​us​ ​the​ ​rest​ ​of​ ​the​ ​way.​ ​​ ​God​ ​–​ ​who​ ​hoped​ ​we​ ​would​ ​trust​ ​him​ ​more​ ​than​ ​we​ ​did​ ​–​ ​is  full​ ​of​ ​mercy​ ​when​ ​we​ ​just​ ​can't. 

I​ ​would​ ​offer:​ ​​ ​these​ ​characters​ ​in​ ​Genesis​ ​22​ ​are​ ​like​ ​shadow​ ​puppets​ ​playing​ ​off​ ​the  light​ ​of​ ​the​ ​gospel.​ ​​ ​Tell​ ​me​ ​where​ ​you​ ​can​ ​see​ ​it.​ ​​ ​Imagine​ ​that​ ​Jesus​ ​is​ ​imitated​ ​in  multiple​ ​characters:​ ​​ ​Abraham,​ ​Sarah,​ ​Isaac​ ​–​ ​and​ ​even​ ​the​ ​ram:  

➢ This​ ​long-promised,​ ​long-expected​ ​child; 
➢ Abraham's​ ​(almost)​ ​unquestioning​ ​obedience; 
➢ Isaac's​ ​passive​ ​acceptance​ ​of​ ​impending​ ​suffering; 
➢ this​ ​line,​ ​"your​ ​son,​ ​your​ ​only​ ​son,”​ ​​ ​mindful​ ​of​ ​the​ ​baptism​ ​of​ ​Jesus; 
➢ the​ ​servants​ ​(disciples)​ ​who​ ​cannot​ ​go​ ​all​ ​the​ ​way​ ​with​ ​him; 
➢ the​ ​donkey​ ​(beast)​ ​bearing​ ​the​ ​burden​ ​of​ ​the​ ​sacrifice; 
➢ Isaac​ ​carrying​ ​his​ ​own​ ​wood​ ​for​ ​sacrifice; 
➢ the​ ​son​ ​asking​ ​his​ ​father​ ​if​ ​the​ ​sacrifice​ ​is​ ​necessary; 
➢ the​ ​mother,​ ​not​ ​consulted​ ​or​ ​included,​ ​left​ ​to​ ​stand​ ​to​ ​the​ ​side​ ​in​ ​helpless  agony​ ​–​ ​like​ ​Mary.​ ​​ ​But​ ​also​ ​like​ ​God,​ ​watching​ ​the​ ​beloved​ ​creation.  

And​ ​there​ ​was​ ​the​ ​sacrifice​ ​–​ ​not​ ​the​ ​boy,​ ​but​ ​the​ ​ram.​ ​​ ​Abraham​ ​did​ ​not​ ​escape​ ​having  to​ ​draw​ ​blood,​ ​to​ ​kill.​ ​​ ​Death​ ​is​ ​ugly​ ​business​ ​all​ ​around,​ ​but​ ​not​ ​negotiable.​ ​​ ​And​ ​then,  there​ ​is​ ​discipleship.​ ​​ ​It's​ ​pretty​ ​easy,​ ​isn't​ ​it,​ ​to​ ​name​ ​off​ ​that​ ​handful​ ​of​ ​things​ ​which​ ​we  would​ ​NEVER​ ​do,​ ​no​ ​matter​ ​what.  

"I'll​ ​never​ ​sacrifice​ ​my​ ​child,​ ​Lord.​ ​​ ​You​ ​can​ ​forget​ ​that​ ​right​ ​now!”  

"Okay​ ​–​ ​well​ ​–​ ​how​ ​about​ ​going​ ​across​ ​the​ ​street​ ​and​ ​talking​ ​to​ ​your​ ​neighbor​ ​then,  Annette,​ ​how​ ​about​ ​that?”  

"I'm​ ​serious,​ ​Lord,​ ​I​ ​will​ ​NOT​ ​sacri…​ ​–​ ​Wait,​ ​what?​ ​​ ​Lord,​ ​that​ ​guy​ ​is​ ​such​ ​a​ ​jerk.​ ​​ ​For​ ​real,  he's​ ​awful.​ ​​" 

The​ ​obedience​ ​and​ ​the​ ​faith​ ​to​ ​which​ ​God​ ​has​ ​NOT​ ​called​ ​me,​ ​sadly,​ ​does​ ​not​ ​relieve​ ​me  of​ ​the​ ​faith​ ​to​ ​which​ ​God​ ​has.​ ​​ ​This​ ​story​ ​is​ ​outrageous.​ ​​ ​I​ ​mostly​ ​hate​ ​it.​ ​​ ​But​ ​in​ ​the  context​ ​of​ ​my​ ​life​ ​here​ ​and​ ​now,​ ​it​ ​can​ ​show​ ​me​ ​that​ ​whatever​ ​faith​ ​and​ ​courage​ ​any  given​ ​moment​ ​calls​ ​for,​ ​God​ ​is​ ​with​ ​me,​ ​keeping​ ​God's​ ​promises,​ ​whether​ ​or​ ​not​ ​I​ ​can​ ​see it​ ​in​ ​real​ ​time.​ ​​ ​If​ ​all​ ​I​ ​can​ ​do​ ​is​ ​take​ ​the​ ​next​ ​step,​ ​the​ ​next​ ​step​ ​is​ ​the​ ​step​ ​of​ ​faith​ ​that​ ​I  must​ ​take.​ ​​ ​That​ ​one​ ​step​ ​may​ ​be​ ​all​ ​the​ ​faith​ ​God​ ​gives​ ​me​ ​at​ ​a​ ​time. 

​But​ ​the​ ​scriptures​ ​and​ ​the​ ​witness​ ​of​ ​the​ ​church​ ​bear​ ​out​ ​the​ ​truth​ ​that,​ ​at​ ​the​ ​end​ ​of​ ​all  things,​ ​God​ ​takes​ ​up​ ​the​ ​slack​ ​when​ ​and​ ​where​ ​we​ ​finally​ ​fail.​ ​​ ​And​ ​God​ ​brings​ ​life​ ​from  death.​ ​​ ​Does​ ​that​ ​answer​ ​every​ ​problem​ ​in​ ​the​ ​story?​ ​​ ​Nope.​ ​​ ​You​ ​want​ ​to​ ​stay​ ​here​ ​until  we​ ​get​ ​that​ ​all​ ​figured​ ​out?​ ​​ ​I​ ​didn't​ ​think​ ​so.​ ​​ ​The​ ​rabbis​ ​believed​ ​the​ ​biblical​ ​text​ ​is​ ​a  reflection​ ​of​ ​God,​ ​a​ ​way​ ​of​ ​knowing​ ​the​ ​Divine.​ ​​ ​Because​ ​the​ ​Divine​ ​is​ ​infinite,​ ​they  reasoned,​ ​the​ ​text​ ​has​ ​infinite​ ​meaning.​ ​​ ​The​ ​more​ ​you​ ​search​ ​for​ ​it,​ ​the​ ​more​ ​there​ ​will  be​ ​to​ ​search. 

I​ ​cannot​ ​help​ ​but​ ​think​ ​that​ ​Abraham's​ ​heart​ ​was​ ​broken​ ​to​ ​have​ ​lived​ ​through​ ​such​ ​a  day.​ ​​ ​To​ ​come​ ​home,​ ​covered​ ​in​ ​ram's​ ​blood,​ ​weeping​ ​tears​ ​he​ ​could​ ​never​ ​explain​ ​to​ ​his  child’s​ ​mama.​ ​​ ​The​ ​story​ ​of​ ​Chapter​ ​23​ ​is​ ​his​ ​quest​ ​to​ ​find​ ​the​ ​perfect​ ​place​ ​to​ ​bury​ ​her.  The​ ​end​ ​of​ ​the​ ​sermon​ ​is​ ​this:​ ​​ ​We​ ​simply​ ​are​ ​not​ ​capable​ ​of​ ​the​ ​faith​ ​to​ ​which​ ​God​ ​calls  us,​ ​this​ ​call​ ​to​ ​give​ ​up​ ​everything​ ​to​ ​follow​ ​Him,​ ​to​ ​leave​ ​home​ ​and​ ​family​ ​as​ ​if​ ​they​ ​were  nothing​ ​more​ ​to​ ​us​ ​than​ ​property​ ​–​ ​to​ ​trust​ ​God​ ​alone​ ​and​ ​altogether,​ ​no​ ​matter​ ​how  terrible​ ​the​ ​circumstance.  

Thus,​ ​the​ ​wood,​ ​the​ ​binding​ ​and​ ​the​ ​willing​ ​son.