Eugene Peterson has this to say about Abraham’s life of faith that led into the test/call to sacrifice his son. They are among the most searching, most solemn and most compelling paragraphs I have read in a long while:
But “faith” is not commonly used in that hard-travelling way. More often it is cliched into a feeling or fantasy or disposition - a kind of wish upwards, an inclination indistinguishable from a whim and easily dissipated by a gust of wind or the distraction of a pretty face.
And so the way of faith requires repeated testing so that we can discern whether we are dealing with the living God or some fantasy or illusion we have cooked up in a mulligan stew of lust and anger, envy and sloth, pride and greed. The testing of faith involves continuous honing, re-orienting, re-adjustment, timely rescues from self-deceit, gracious deliverances from the devil’s illusions. The test is conducted by means of sacrifice, sacrifice that in Abraham’s life of faith has its fullest exposition in the Binding of Isaac on Mount Moriah
Sacrifice exposes spiritual fantasy as a masquerade of faith. Sacrifice scraps any illusion, no matter how pious, that is spun by the devil. Sacrifice plucks out the avaricious eye. Sacrifice lops off the grasping hand. Sacrifice is a readiness to interrupt whatever we are doing and build an altar, bind whatever we happen to be carrying with us at the moment, place it on the altar, and see what God wills to do with it.
Abraham was a veteran in the sacrifice business. After leaving Ur and Haran his first named activity consisted in building altars at which sacrifices were made. Shechem, Bethel and Hebron are named. Each altar became a place of prayer: “Is this the way God commanded and promised, or is this a version of the command and promise that I have customised to my convenience?” At each altar he learned a little more, acquired a deeper discernment, a sharper insight into God’s command and promise in contrast to his innate wilfulness and indulgence but also in contrast to the anti-faith world of Ur with its imposing ziggurat. Altars built at many a crossroads, a life of repeated sacrifices, each sacrifice an act of discernment, separating the chaff of illusion from the wheat of promise.
The spare reticence of the narration invites a participating imagination - all that leaving, over and over. Habits of relinquishment became deeply ingrained in Abraham. They become deeply ingrained by in us as we read. Leaving Ur and Haran, leaving Shechem and Bethel, leaving Egypt and Gerar, leaving Beersheba. Leaving, leaving, leaving. But every leaving was also a lightening of self, a futher cleansing of the toxins of acquisition. A life of getting was slowly but surely replaced by a life of receiving - receiving the promises, receiving the covenants, receiving the three strangers, receiving Isaac, receiving circumcision, receiving a ram in the thicket - being transformed into a life that abandons self-sovereignty and embraces God-sovereignty. Abraham did that for a hundred years: “sacrifice/Is slow as a funeral procession/In rush-hour traffic, the sort of word/Other words pass, honking..”
In the process of leaving behind, Abraham became more, gradually but certainly realising that relinquishment is prerequisite to fulfilment, that letting go of a cramped self-will opened up to an expansive God-willed life. Faith.
When we travel the way of Abraham this happens: the word “sacrifice” is gradually transformed from a sour whine of resentment to a robust embrace of affirmation. Every time Abraham left one place, the road lengthened and the landscape widened. Mount Moriah would provide him his largest experience of God. On Mount Moriah Abraham was empty enough of Abraham to take in salvation whole. Faith.
Just: wow. From The Jesus Way, pages 49.50.
