Madison N. Pierce (PhD) is Assistant Professor of New Testament at Trinity Evangelical Divinity Schol. She is a co-editor of Muted Voices of the New Testament (T&T Clark, 2017), and author of Divine Discourse in the Epistle to the Hebrews (Cambridge, 2020).
Our lives are made up of many memorable tests. Thinking back, you might remember an exam from school that you poured everything you had into. You might remember when you took your college entrance exams—such as the ACT or SAT or an equivalent. You might remember a test that you had no control over—such as a blood test or a biopsy. But you might also, when you hear the word “test,” think of something that shook you even more—a time that you had no idea where to go or what to do—when you didn’t want to take any of the paths in front of you, when you had to sacrifice the life you imagined.
That’s the kind of test we’re talking about today.
Genesis 22 opens, “Sometime later, God tested Abraham.”
What does that language evoke for you? “Testing”
Frankly, we do not have a sufficient grasp of the biblical concept of testing. We use this language to describe God’s actions frequently, something like: “I have a coworker who tries my patience. God is testing me.” But I encourage you to be use this term more carefully. This language is used for specific events in the lives of specific people at very specific and influential times in the history of God’s people.
- In Exodus, God says he will test the people by creating specific rules around the gathering and eating of the manna. They can collect only enough for one day; they will have to trust that God will provide consistently.
- God tests Hezekiah to see if he can set aside his pride and acknowledge the miracles that God did for and through him.
- The more general “tests” pertain to idolatry during the period of the Judges or to the interpretation of dreams. They are specific tests about the worship of other gods. And while later Jewish writings emphasize the good of “testing” more, our canonical literature suggests that “testing” is not one of the primary ways that God interacts with his people. In fact, due to disobedience, God is said to be tested far more than his people…
With this more general caveat about testing in place, we can turn to the first explicit test in Scripture—Abraham’s.
A familiar drama
Last week Ethan preached on a portion of Genesis 21. Since that story is rather important for our story today, here’s a quick recap:
Isaac is weaned. This means he survives infancy and is likely about 2 or 3 years old. This occasions a celebration. The promise really will be fulfilled, it seems. During this celebration, Abraham’s first son, Ishmael, begins to laugh at his little brother (Paul says he “persecutes” him in Galatians 4). Sarah is outraged. She quickly commands Abraham to cast Ishmael and his mother out. Sarah hates Hagar and Ishmael for the situation that she put them in. She is the one who encourages Abraham to sleep with his handmaid—and Hagar likely had little choice in the matter. But Sarah sees this teenager mocking her small child, and she can bear it no longer. They must go.
The great philosopher Eleanor Stump, whose work influenced many elements of what I present you today, offers Sarah some charity in this moment. She thinks that Sarah must feel a threat to Isaac’s inheritance. And we don’t know what Ishmael said, but if take seriously what Paul says, that he did persecute the child. His antagonism is noteworthy. Even if God promised descendants through Isaac, Ishmael is a legitimate threat. Legally, he is Abraham’s rightful heir. This might explain what happens next because, in the midst of Abraham’s concern for Ishmael, God suddenly commands him to send him away. Then Ishmael and Hagar are gone—and for all Abraham knows, they are dead.
Sometime later, now when Isaac is much older, perhaps a teenager himself, God tested Abraham. He calls out to him by name.
He says to Abraham, “Take your son, your only son, whom you love—Isaac—and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on a mountain I will show you.”
An unthinkable test
His only son? Functionally speaking, this is now the case. His first son is gone. And his remaining son Isaac, whom he loves, is to be sacrificed.
Abraham has one son, and he is commanded to sacrifice him. This is an unthinkable test. It’s an unthinkable test even before we consider the fact that God has promised to bless Abraham through this child. It’s an unthinkable test for any parent of any child at any time.
Nevertheless, in unthinkable obedience, the next day Abraham sets out. He takes two servants, all the wood he needs for the offering, and his son. The fact that the narrative mentions the wood is interesting. Perhaps it is because he would not find it on his journey. Perhaps it is so he has all that he needs to perform what God has asked. Either way, this preparation undoubtedly contributes to Isaac’s question later on. Why would his father bring wood, and fire also, when he doesn’t even have a ram? Abraham tells Isaac, “God will provide the lamb for the burnt offering, my son.” When he says this, Abraham has already dismissed the two servants. Isaac and Abraham are alone. And it is not clear whether Isaac accepts his father’s answer or not.
They began their journey in Beersheba, which means the hike to Moriah is more than fifty miles. As the narrative says, this takes them about three days. So for three days, Abraham journeys with his son and his servants. He looks the boy in the eyes; talks with him; hopefully laughs with him; and he watches the life that he might extinguish. He endures this journey perhaps crying out like the psalmist, “How long, O Lord?” When he sees the mountain in the distance, Abraham still likely has four or five miles to travel. He watches the mountain grow as he draws near to the place where he will sacrifice his son—his only Son, whom he loves.
Abraham and Isaac scale the mountain, and when they arrive at the place that God has shown him, Abraham builds an altar. He places the wood on it. As it would happen, since Moriah is mentioned in 2 Chronicles, many interpreters identify this site with the place where Solomon would build the temple. But what pattern does this offering establish?
After the wood is placed on the altar, Abraham binds his son. He places him on the altar. He raises his arm with his knife in hand…
How long, O Lord?
At this moment, I hope we empathize with Abraham—and Isaac. (As a brief aside, I’ll mention that Isaac, like many other victims, is silenced by the narrator.) But this story is a test for Abraham.
Perhaps we think this is unfair. Abraham has been following God for decades at this point. Does God really need additional assurance?
Remember his life
Yeah… maybe. Let’s look again at the life of Abraham.
When he is called in Genesis 12, God tells him to leave his home and his father’s family. He’s technically already left his home, so he does that well. But he doesn’t leave all of his father’s family. His nephew Lot and his family come along.
After God confirms that he will provide Abraham a flesh-and-blood heir in Genesis 15, Abraham doubts God again as he turns to Hagar to bear his children.
When God brings judgment on the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, Abraham doubts God’s mercy—thinking he must be the one to convince God to act justly towards the innocent.
When Abraham meets Abimelek the king, he doubts God’s protection. He presents Sarah as his sister. Isaac is not the first family member whom Abraham is willing to sacrifice. He offers Sarah’s body, even though God’s promise ensures their protection.
And just a few episodes later, we’re back at Moriah.
A sacrifice, a mercy
“Abraham, Abraham!”
Yet again, he answers the call: “Here I am.”
“Do not lay a hand on the boy,” the angel of the Lord said. “Do not do anything to him. Now I know that you fear God because you have not withheld from me your son, your only son.”
Abraham has doubted God in both miraculous and ordinary things to this point. He has questioned God’s mercy, his provision, and his trustworthiness. The Abraham narrative is sometimes painted as though Abraham lives his life and God pops in to remind him he’s got a promise pending. Abraham needs reminding, and in the midst of his failures, he—and the readers—need to know that God will continue to be merciful to this man who tests him. God tests Abraham once. Abraham tests God continually. I can say with certainty as I reflect on my own life that Abraham is not the only one.
But perhaps this still feels unfair. This is, after all, an unthinkable test. But what is the test? What does God ask Abraham to do? What does he really want? He says, “Sacrifice [your son] as a burnt offering.”
Interpreters through the ages have tried to find many ways to resolve the tension of God commanding Abraham to do something as horrendous as killing his child. They say: this is not murder. This is only a test. This is a story to explain why the Israelites do not practice child sacrifice—or why the temple is placed in this particular location.
But that does not answer the question. That answers why this story might be included in scripture. But it doesn’t explain why God tests Abraham and what he is testing.
Trusting the promise
Abraham has followed God for decades. Here he is. He has what he has been working for—a true heir. This is the true test of Abraham’s loyalty—whether he is willing to trust that the promise will still be fulfilled, even if he sacrifices his son.
For Eleanor Stump, to question the morality of this command is to misunderstand the command itself. For her, Abraham has weighed two possibilities: maybe God will stop him before he sacrifices his son, or, alternatively, maybe God will ensure that ultimately Isaac is not killed, even if Abraham sacrifices him. In other words, this sacrifice will not end in death. Though she does not connect the two explicitly, her reading of this passage is rather similar to that offered by the author of Hebrews:
“By faith Abraham, when God tested him, offered Isaac as a sacrifice. He who had embraced the promises was about to sacrifice his one and only son, even though God had said to him, “It is through Isaac that your offspring will be reckoned.” Abraham reasoned that God could even raise the dead, and so in a manner of speaking, he did receive Isaac back from death.”
This passage in Hebrews offers a bridge from Genesis 22 to our reading in Romans 6. The life of Isaac from birth to near death represents God’s ability to bring life out of death. He was born from parents who were unable to conceive—reproductively “dead,” although I admit this biblical language is less sensitive than I might like, so I’m sorry for that. Here again he is saved from death.
In Romans 6, Paul calls us to offer ourselves, as those who have already been brought out of death. We’ve already been spared. And yet we, like his son, his only Son whom he loves, offer ourselves willingly. Isaac provides a model for us in some ways, yes, but here is where we depart from him. Isaac had no choice in the matter, and thankfully, they find a ram to offer in his stead.
But Jesus chose to offer himself. And he asks us to do the same. So now, “offer yourselves as slaves to righteousness leading to holiness. When you were slaves to sin, you were free from the control of righteousness… now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves of God, the benefit you reap leads to holiness, and the result is eternal life.”
Our God is a God who brings life out of death. And our God is a God who provides. This is the final message of Genesis 22.
Just after the angel of the Lord releases Abraham from the command to sacrifice his son, he looks up. Suddenly, he sees a ram with his horns caught in a thicket. He sees the ram as God’s provision for the offering. What’s interesting is Abraham is not commanded to make this sacrifice. We might say that it’s a clear implication of the events. He’s got an altar ready and nothing to offer… But when Abraham takes the ram he finds and offers it there at Moriah, he appears to does so of his own volition. He too makes a willing offering, though he cannot offer himself. In this way, Abraham fits the pattern in scripture thus far. Only two offerings have taken place to the point—an offering by Abel (well, and I guess Cain)—and an offering by Noah.
Here with Abraham, God provides, and God is merciful.
Then Abraham comes down the mountain, and they all live happily ever after…
But this is not so. Genesis never depicts Abraham speaking with Sarah or Isaac again. He becomes wealthy. He has a son. But his family is damaged beyond repair. His disobedience all throughout his life has a cost.
And Abraham will forget God’s trustworthiness again. When he is old, Isaac marries, and Isaac’s wife Rebekah is unable to have a child for many years. It seems, the promise is in danger again. In the meantime, Abraham starts his work of fulfilling the promise on his own again. Sarah dies when Abraham is 137. Sometime after he achieves this ripe old age, he takes another wife and sleeps with many other women. He bears many more children. He offers them part of Isaac’s inheritance.
Doubt, a consistent thread
The consistent thread in Abraham’s disobedience is doubt. But please, let be clear: doubt is not the problem. It’s that Abraham acts on his doubt. He has God’s ear. He can speak with him as he does with Sodom and Gomorrah. He has God’s ear—just as we do—but rather than calling out to him. This so-called friend of God takes matters into his own hands. To use Paul’s imagery, he is enslaved to this doubt.
Hear me. At this moment in history, we might doubt God’s goodness. We might wonder if the virus or the rampant, horrific racial injustice or disgusting treatment of women and children worldwide is evidence that justice will not come. That we, like Abraham, need to do something unjust to bring about justice. That we, like Abraham, need to convince God to be merciful.
Ruled by God’s gift
We do not. We cannot act as those ruled by our doubt. We are ruled by God’s gift.
Hear me again. Our fear of operating out of doubt cannot paralyze us into not operating at all. We must seek God’s will to act in accordance with his will. We are sent into the world to continue to fulfill God’s promise to Abraham—because through his offspring all the nations of the world will be blessed.
We might not be heartily welcomed. Our efforts might not be immediately rewarded. But we, if we are ruled by the gift of God, the nations of the world will be blessed through us.
