
I've heard from Him before.
I know His voice...His powerful, arresting, authoritative, yet merciful, voice.
"Abram," He said to me, "Leave your country, your people and your father's household and go to the land I will show you."
There was such energy and commanding supremacy and promise in His tone that I knew I needed to do as He said.
On another occasion He told me, "Look at the heavens and count the stars - if indeed you can count them. So shall your offspring be."
There were other times, too.
I knew His voice, you can believe that.
True to His word, when I was very old; past the time when people have children, God gave me the son of my dreams.
I named him Isaac.
He was the joy of my wife, Sarah's, and my life.
We watched him grow.
We taught him to run and play, to fish and throw a spear.
We loved him with abounding love.
That is why I was excited the day I heard God's voice say to me, "Abraham!"
"Oh, good!" I thought. "Another promise from God Almighty!"
"Take you son, your only son, Isaac, whom you love, and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains I will tell you about."
My heart went cold.
My mind could not get around it.
"Let me understand, God. You want me to take Isaac, the one you promised to me, the one from whom many nations would come, the one whose birth brought joy into the lives of two old people...you want me to kill him as a sacrifice to you?"
"Yes."
The weight of it was more than I could bear.
Depression knows no light, no hope, no future.
But this was my God.
He had never failed me in the past...but this...this was just too much.
I gathered together the materials I would need for the journey and then I called out to my teen aged son, "Isaac! Come! We must go to a mountain to make an offering of sacrifice to God."
He always seemed to love to go places with me.
"Father," he asked, "Where must we go?"
"I'm not exactly sure, Isaac, but it is in the land of Moriah, and God has said he will show me which mountain."
"OK, dad, let's get going!"
I lit a torch and we headed out to Moriah.
The way to Moriah was rough, and not so close.
We were not too talkative. To tell the truth, I didn't feel much like talking.
"Dad," Isaac spoke with uncertainty in his voice. "We have the wood, we have the fire, but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?"
The question cut me to the quick.
The words that came out of my mouth were not my words. I had no idea that I was about to say what I said.
I was overcome with a sense of faith and trust, the likes of which I had never known before.
And out the words tumbled, "God will provide himself, a lamb..."
They were like thunder reaching back to the beginning of time and stretching forth to the end of time.
Even I did not understand what I had just said.
How could I know that over a thousand years hence, God, himself, would manifest Himself as the child of a virgin in Bethlehem?
How could I contemplate that that child, the only Son of God Almighty, would be scourged, nailed to a cross and would give Himself as a ransom for those who would believe in Him, the perfect sacrificial Lamb of God?
How could I imagine that God the Father would turn His back on God the Son of God to provide salvation for the world?
How could I know that the Son of God would become the Son of Man so that the sons of men could become sons of God?
"GOD WILL PROVIDE HIMSELF A LAMB..."
When we got to Moriah, God directed me to a hill. It sent a shudder down my spine, for it looked very much like a skull.
On top of the hill, the hill, later to be called Golgatha, the place of the skull, I set to work getting the altar ready.
Then I turned to Isaac.
"Isaac, my son, I need you to trust me like you've never trusted me before. I need you to let me bind you and lay you atop the altar."
He was not dumb, my son, Isaac.
He realized exactly what was happening.
"At your bidding, my father," he said.
And I placed him upon the wood and picked up my knife.
Forever came over me and just hung there.
The knife was over my head, ready to plunge into the heart of my long awaited son.
"Abraham."
It was His voice.
"Abraham! Do not do anything to him."
The emotion that invaded me was more than I could understand. I didn't hear the rest of what God said.
I turned my head to hide the tears, and there, in the thicket was a ram, caught by his horns.
Here was the burnt offering.
I unbound Isaac and we embraced for a long, long time.
"Let us rename the hill," I said.
"Let us call it 'The Lord will provide.'"
And that is why it came to be said of this strange little hill in Moriah:
On the mountain of the Lord IT will be provided.
Then God repeated His earlier promise to me and began the process of His salvation.
See, from His head, His hands, His feet;
Sorrow and love flow mingled down.
Did e're such love and sorrow meet;
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?









