THE TRIAL OF FAITH
‘God did prove Abraham.’
Genesis 22:1 (R.V.)
We look on the demand which Jehovah here makes as a forward step in Abraham’s spiritual training. We believe that it answered the two purposes, first of showing him what was the principle at the heart of sacrifice, and second of condemning human sacrifices finally and for ever among the people of God.
I. Think, then, first, what Abraham needed. This is best expressed in the Revised Version. And it came to pass after these things that God did prove Abraham. He needed to suffer that so he might be strong. But had he not been sufficiently tried? For an ordinary man—yes; but not for the father of the faithful. Nor is it true that our trials diminish as we get on in life. Abraham was put through his fiercest test when it seemed as though all tests were over. He had settled down into a tranquil old age when Isaac was born. The succession was assured. And then came the hardest trial of all. It tried alike his faith and his affections. His faith in God might have been shaken under this dreadful demand. All he knew of Jehovah up to this time had prepared him for anything rather than for this. And his tenderest love was wrenched. The words of God were so arranged that each seemed keener than the one before.— Thy son—thine only son—whom thou lovest—Isaac. ‘We can fancy, as the voice went on, that it seemed as if God took malignant pleasure in dwelling on every item of the suffering He was inflicting on Abraham. The dreadfulness of all this was that Abraham had to think that God required this of him.’
II. Turn, secondly, to inquire into the purpose which the trial of Abraham’s faith was intended to serve.—Was it not meant once and for all time to clear up the matter of sacrifice?
Three things Abraham gained by this test.
(1) He understood what true self-surrender was.—Let us think what it involves. For one thing, sacrifice. Now what is the truth lying at the heart of all sacrifice? Is it not this: that we belong to another and greater than we? We are God’s husbandry. The lamb, the fruit, the tithe given up, speak of this. We are stewards, not proprietors. Then, for another thing, sacrifice involves the surrender of our wills. This Abraham was slowly learning. God had a will for him, but in Egypt and at the court of Abimelech he had interposed his own will, and had suffered for it. ‘God seemed to demand the sacrifice of life. He really required the surrender of the father’s will.’ But another feature in self-surrender is that we are called upon to give up what we most prize. Had Abraham not been willing to part with Isaac into the hands of God, his love, even to Isaac, would have been feeble. He who prefers his dearest friend or his well-beloved child to the call of duty will soon show that he prefers himself to his dearest friend, and would not sacrifice himself for his child.
(2) Abraham saw more clearly into the true nature of God.—Human sacrifices must always have been abhorrent to Him. He does not change in His essence. But now let this true man, and all time to come, learn what pleases God in sacrifice is self-surrender. ‘Abraham never needed himself to be taught a second time that God does not wish the offering of blood. No Hebrew parent reading that story in after years and teaching it to his children would ever think of pleasing the God of Abraham by offering to Him his first-born son; it became an abomination in Israel to cause children to pass through the fire of Moloch, and the later prophets knew that God loves mercy rather than sacrifice.’
(3) Abraham came back from the mountain with his faith—because it was clearer—therefore stronger than before.—Note these few points in his faith: (a) Unresisting obedience. Not a word had he said to Sarah. He was now alone with God. God must see a reason for this act which mortal eye could not. (b) Deliberate isolation. Faith grows and fills out in solitude. Probably nothing was said when Abraham rose early, made the preparations himself, and started on that sad journey to Moriah. Be still and know that I am God. (c) A larger confidence. My son (most pathetic words), God will provide Himself a lamb for a burnt offering. Already his quiet meditation had brought him to believe that ‘in some way or other the Lord will provide.’ (d) Entire submission. Lay not … for now I know, etc. This was all that was necessary. The education of Abraham was now complete.
Illustration
(1) ‘It is related that about a century ago there was a day of remarkable gloom in America, when the light of the sun was slowly extinguished, as if by an eclipse. The Legislature of Connecticut was then in session, and some one, in the consternation of the hour—it was thought the day of judgment had come—moved an adjournment. Then there arose an old Puritan legislator, Davenport, of Stamford, who said that if the last day had come he desired to be found in his place, doing his duty, and therefore moved that candles be brought in so that the house could proceed with its duty. It was this that nerved the old patriarch to plod on so unflinchingly to the place where Isaac was to be offered; he was in the way of duty, and in the way the Lord would provide. Even “in the Mount,” in man’s extremity, the Lord would provide. Like capital safely invested, the way of duty yields a sure though modest return, and is never more comfortable than in time of panic and anxiety.’
(2) ‘Abraham christened the anonymous mountain-top, not by a name reminding him or others of his trial, but by a name that proclaimed God’s deliverance. He did not say anything about his agony or about his obedience. God spoke about that, not Abraham. He did not want these to be remembered, but what he desired to hand on to later generations was what God had done for him. Is that the way in which we look back upon life? Many a bare, bald mountain-top in your career and mine we have got our names for. Are they names that commemorate our sufferings or God’s blessings? When we look back on the past, what do we see? Times of trial or times of deliverance? Which side of the wave do we choose to look at, the one that is smitten by the sunshine or the one that is all black and purple in the shadow? The sea on the one side will be all a sunny path, and on the other dark as chaos. Let us name the heights that lie behind us, visible to memory, by names that commemorate, not the troubles that we had on them, but the deliverances that on them we received from God.’