This sermon is from the Rev. Charles G. Dennison sermon archive, part of the “Love of the Father” series, and was preached at Grace Orthodox Presbyterian Church in Sewickley, PA, during a worship service on Sunday, August 30, 1992.
Listen to the word of God. And it came to pass after these things that God tested Abraham and said unto him, Abraham, and he said, Behold, here I am. And He said, Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and go into the land of Moriah, and offer him there for a burnt offering upon one of the mountains, which I will tell thee of.
Abraham rose up early in the morning and saddled his ass, and took two of his young men with him and Isaac, his son. He laid the wood for the burnt offering on the ass, and rose up and went unto the place of which God had told him. Then on the third day, Abraham lifted up his eyes and saw the place afar off. And Abraham said unto his young men, Stay here with the ass, and I and the lad will go yonder and worship, and come again to you. And Abraham took the wood of the burnt offering and laid it upon Isaac his son, and he took the fire in his hand and a knife, and they went both of them together.
And Isaac spake unto Abraham his father and said, My father, and he said, Here am I, my son. And he said, Behold, the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for a burnt offering? And Abraham said, My son, God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt offering.
So they went, both of them, together. And they came to the place which God had told him of, and Abraham built an altar there, and he laid the wood in order, and bound Isaac, his son, and laid him on the altar upon the wood. And Abraham stretched forth his hand and took the knife to slay his son.
And the angel of the Lord called unto him out of heaven and said, Abraham, Abraham. And he said, Here am I. And He said, Lay not thine hand upon the lad, neither do thou anything unto him. For now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only son, from me. Abraham lifted up his eyes and looked, and behold, behind him a ram caught in a thicket by his horns. Abraham went and took the ram and offered him up for a burnt offering in the stead of his son.
Abraham called the name of that place Jehovah-Jireh. As it is said to this day, “On the mount of the Lord it shall be provided.” The angel of the Lord called to Abraham from heaven the second time and said, “By myself have I sworn, saith the Lord, for because thou hast done this thing and hast not withheld thy son, thine only son, that in blessing I will bless thee, and in multiplying I will multiply thy seed as the stars of the heaven and as the sand which is upon the seashore, and thy seed shall possess the gate of his enemies. And in thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed, because thou hast obeyed my voice.” So Abraham returned unto his young men, and they rose up and went together to Beersheba, and Abraham dwelt at Beersheba.
Let us pray together. How gracious you are, O God, in giving us life and all things. Even now we breathe because we are given breath by you. Lord, we know that as you give, you also take away. But in every circumstance, may we be trained to say, “Blessed be the name of the Lord.” O God, give us hearts that are obedient, willing, and submissive. And Lord, even these things, so that we may have glorious fellowship with You. We ask this in Jesus’ name. Amen.
We found it necessary to spend some time reflecting on, meditating upon, and thinking about this story—the extraordinary story about Abraham and Isaac in Genesis chapter 22. We now come to our fourth and final message on this very remarkable story. This story is remarkable because it fascinates us and also startles us. It is the startling character of this story that we have been focusing upon, and this morning our attention will particularly fall upon that aspect of the text that deals with what we might call, for convenience, the moral line, the ethical line. I will be perfectly honest with you. Søren Kierkegaard wrote a book called Fear and Trembling when he was dealing with this particular passage. I must admit to you that I stand before you this morning as one who is in fear and trembling. This entire matter truly causes us to shake and tremble.
We are confronted with something that seems almost inexplicable, something that appears to introduce confusion and even contradiction. This contradiction seems to work back into the nature of God, creating a tension between what God says and does at one point and what He says and does at another. To put it plainly, Genesis 22 startles us and startles us severely, because God here commands what He elsewhere forbids. I will say it again: Genesis 22 startles us severely, because God here commands what He elsewhere forbids.
Now, you all know about God’s prohibition. You know that later in the history of redemption, God will make specific His command regarding the sacrifice of children. This act will then be portrayed as something completely contrary to the worship of God. Consider the Israelites who read this story about Abraham and Isaac. They have also heard Moses and the Law, they have heard Leviticus, they have heard Deuteronomy, and specifically those passages that prescribe that the Israelites are not to follow the practices of the nations, including the sacrifice of children in the name of their gods.
And it is more than just the fact that we are dealing here with a prohibition from the Lord. You will recall how that prohibition is framed. The Israelites were forbidden this particular action, not because it was comparable to minor sins that might be considered by the children of Israel as they entered the land of promise. Not at all.
We are dealing here with the sin of greatest magnitude. The sacrifice of a child is described by God later as an abomination, a most serious sin. This word, abomination, is reserved for the most heinous offenses—those that clearly defy God and His created order. Sins such as gross idolatry and homosexuality.
How can God command something that he later forbids, and forbid it with such strong language? We have already addressed the redemptive historical patterns found in this text, and how clearly it is laid out here in Abraham’s sacrifice of Isaac what we will eventually see in the sacrifice of God the Father in the offering up of his own beloved Son. Those matters and considerations we have already discussed. Now we are focusing particularly on this ethical question. How can God command here what he later forbids and abominates? May I suggest to you that the answer to this question will draw us into the most profound level of this story, as we ourselves are involved in it, and will draw us into the deepest matters of the relationship that exists between God and Abraham. Insofar as we are the children of Abraham by faith and in faith, we are called to be like him. The answer to this question will likewise draw us into the interior of the relationship that is to exist between God and his people. So then, with so much at stake, what is the answer to our question? How can God command what he will later forbid and abominate? Some have suggested that the reason God does this is to illustrate his own freedom, his absolute freedom, and to demonstrate his absolute authority.
Such a demonstration would then have the effect of drawing from Abraham a sense of his own dependence upon God and the necessity of his submission to all of God’s commands wherever they might be. It is specifically the arbitrary nature of the command in Genesis 22 that enhances the test to which God subjects Abraham and likewise brings to the surface the greatness of Abraham in that he so unreservedly complies. The command stands so contrary to what we would expect, certainly so contrary to what any later-day Israelite would expect, that Abraham’s quick obedience is a marvel. And such obedience is intelligible only if Abraham has grasped God’s right to demand of his creature whatever he will, and if Abraham has placed himself thoroughly beneath God’s authority.
That is the approach of some to the text. And it goes without saying that this approach has much to commend it. The text even confirms this interpretation in some ways. When the angel says to Abraham, staying his hand in verse 12, “Now I know that you fear God.” That fear, that reverence of God by Abraham, is the evidence that he understands God’s prerogatives and his own place, and he has accepted it all in unqualified faith.
We Calvinists quickly resonate to this explanation of the test for obvious reasons. We love the themes of divine sovereignty and God’s rights. We resonate to messages with respect to God’s law and the right that he has to impose his just and righteous sentences where and when he pleases. We do not recoil, as other believers do, from the biblical assertions of God’s definitive power as expressed in his control of the world and his rights over all of his creatures. And so it is, we have concluded, that God commanded Abraham to do what he later forbids in order to set before his people an outstanding example of his own authority and the sort of submission that pleases him.
But having said that, now having come to this point, have we said all that there is to say? Is there more that must be spelled out, examined, and investigated? Do we yet have a fully satisfying explanation? As we have maintained throughout our study thus far, God intends this story to be utterly extraordinary, exceptional, startling, and even controversial, in order to push us beyond commonplace matters.
I am not suggesting that God’s sovereignty and His divine rights are commonplace matters. But there is a sense in which God’s sovereignty and His divine right are everywhere asserted throughout Scripture. They come to bear upon us from every angle when we read Scripture, and that is why it is such a marvel that so many miss it. We might well ask, how can it be that a great number of Christian saints today miss that which is so clearly evident, so plainly apparent from the record of Holy Scripture? God is sovereign. Who can stay His hand? Can you resist Him once He sets His mind to do something? Is history, in fact, working itself out according to His appointed ends? Is He sovereign in the disposition of all things? What about His servants?
Are they not then called to submissive obedience, to compliance, to humility, and to prostration before Him, acknowledging His right? Once more, God intends this story to be utterly extraordinary, startling. He means it to stop us in our tracks and to push us beyond the commonplaces of Scripture, or beyond ordinary matters, beyond the mere sovereignty of God, and beyond the mere obedience and compliance to His command.
So much does God intend this story to push us beyond these ordinary things that He actually sets a command over against His command. He commands the unthinkable—no, He even commands what is unlawful. Now you know why I have approached this message with fear and trembling. If I have not shocked you so far, if I have not startled you thus far, you should be stunned by now. God utters a command that stands deliberately over against what He will later command. He commands the unthinkable. He commands what seems to be, appears to be, unlawful.
Now, why in the world would God do that? Would He do this in order to impress the imprint of the law upon the consciousness of Abraham? In order to make the law appear all the more important and imperative? No. You see what God is doing. He is pushing Abraham beyond the law. By means of a commandment that pulls Abraham along in its trail.
Because the ultimate bond that exists between God and His people will not be, cannot be, the law. It cannot be for the sake of a command that Abraham persists, as if that command were an end in itself, nor can it be for the sake of the imagined right and moral thing to do. The Abraham is kept in fellowship with God.
No, it will not be for the sake of any such thing. It will be for the sake of God alone—Himself being the object, the goal of the test. If I give you a command that stands blatantly against, flies in the face of everything you have thought of Me, and you comply, will you then do that for My sake, and for My sake alone, because you love Me? And Abraham says, yes.
It will not be the command or the morality of the thing that saves you in the end. It will not be those things that save your relationships, that save your marriages, that save the bond between you in families, in fellowships with one another. It will not be that which preserves you. It will be the love, the bond, the fellowship, the communion. That is what will preserve.
When you, for the sake of another, say, “Yes, I will forsake all for your sake and love you completely,” not only will God command the unthinkable, but He will do the unthinkable. For He will sacrifice His own Son in demonstration of His commitment to the bond that He has established between Himself and His people. We are living in a world in which morality has become religion. The right is to commend itself in and of itself. The law is its own best justification. No! No! No! The law itself is unto an end. It is for the sake of something else.
It is for the sake of the bond, the fellowship, the communion that exists between one person and another in the supreme sense between God and His people. Hear then the story of Abraham and Isaac. Listen to it in all of its startling detail, in all of its horrifying reality, so that you may stand before God with fear and trembling, willing to trade even that which appears to be moral and right for the sake of the bond that exists between you and Him.
Let us then live as this father of the faith lived, with that as our supreme goal—this precious, sacred fellowship with our God, secured for us through the blood of Christ, the true Lamb of God, who has taken away our sin. Our God, we seek something higher. We look to that which is higher. And in doing so, our God, we understand the place of those things which You have set before Your people. We even understand the place of Your commandment, the place of Your laws, that they might prove to be those things which You have given to us to encourage us truly toward that end, that goal which is supreme. O Lord, by Your law our sin is exposed, by Your law the character of our God is made all the more plain to us. And we are pushed even beyond to the goal which the law has for itself—the fellowship that is found with our God. May we cherish and treasure that fellowship above all else, and long, Lord, for the day in which that fellowship will be complete and full in glory above.
The sermon text provided above is derived from the sermon audio recording making use of generative tools. It has not been manually edited. While transcription tools have a high degree of accuracy, the output may include generative textual, punctuation, and/or formatting errors.